


Mercy for a dreamer

by Dino_Cattivo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Superbat Big Bang 2019, Temporary Character Death, violence in fight scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 22:12:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19485067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dino_Cattivo/pseuds/Dino_Cattivo
Summary: Clark is happily married to Bruce. But his husband starts acting strange and Clark gets suspicious. At first Clark suspect Bruce of cheating but there is something bigger at work here affecting everyone around him. And Clark is set on finding out what it is. And with every piece of the puzzle he finds the situation just gets more confusing. Clark just wish he could wake up from all of this and go back to the times before everything fell appart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to the Superbat Big Bang this year for the first time. I really love the community and it is super fun to be in the big group chat. A really big thank you to [dippkip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dippkip/pseuds/dippkip) from the chat for beta reading the fic. The tips and corrections were really helpful and made my mess a lot more readable.
> 
> I had the pleasure to have the amazing [Jayjayverse](https://jayjayverse.tumblr.com/post/186083665964/art-contribution-to-the-superbat-big-bang-2019) as a partner in the Bang. And the art turned out so awesome I'm really stunned by just how beautiful it is and how well it fits the story.

Bright sunlight warmed Clark's face and bare chest when the annoying sound of his alarm went off and pulled him from his deep restful slumber. The fingers on his right hand twitched, wanting desperately to turn off the awful noise so he could cling to the nothingness a few minutes longer. But the alarm just kept beeping and beeping. He turned to grab his phone, still half asleep and fumbling blindly for the device with his eyes closed. The twisting of his body was stopped by a heavy weight pressed on his shoulder and arm, holding him down to the mattress.

He stretched out with his free arm and managed to find his phone after hitting the nightstand a few times and pushing the book on it to the side. He tapped the snooze button and bought himself five more minutes of blessed silence. Only then did he open his eyes with a bit of effort and look at the body snugged to his side. He couldn’t help but have a bright smile on his face. Happiness filled his chest, along with contentment and a feeling of belonging.

Bruce's naked chest was pressed to his side, one of his hands resting on Clark's chest over his heart. The other one was curled in the blanket, hogging it effectively from Clark and pressing it close to Bruce. Not that Clark minded his partner stealing the blanket in the night – he didn't get cold easily. Their legs were tangled under the remaining sheet, where one leg of Clark’s pajama pants slid up to his knee. Bruce's head was resting on Clark's shoulder, holding him down. Not that he would want to leave anyway. Not when he had this beautiful angel beside him with messy hair, who drooled all over his shoulder.

He turned sideways and pulled Bruce fully in his arms, just breathing in the faint smell of the expensive shampoo Bruce had bought them a few days ago. His motion woke Bruce and he stirred in Clark's arms, grunting unhappily. Clark couldn't help a found smile seeing how grumpy his partner was in the morning. He brushed a soft kiss against Bruce's hair and spoke softly.

“Morning babe. I need to go to work. Just keep sleeping. Get some more rest. I will see you in the evening.”

Bruce grumbled something Clark couldn’t understand but what was probably Bruce's dissatisfaction about being left alone in their bed. Or at least that was how he interpreted it.

“Yeah baby, I know. I love you too.”

Clark took a quick shower, since it was already late and he didn't want to miss the start of work. When he stepped out the delicious smell of coffee flooded the apartment. Bruce stood at the entrance door with a fluffy gray robe thrown over his baggy pajama bottoms, which he had stolen from Clark half a year ago. In one hand was a travel mug, the source of the delicious smell, and in the other a bag with a simple breakfast. Bruce was not too profound in the kitchen,but this made the gesture even more endearing.

“Have I ever told you just how much I love you?”

He stepped between the outstretched arms of his lover and stole a kiss from his lips. Then he took the food, packing it securely in his worn out shoulder bag between his pens, notebooks, and research papers.

“Only every single day. Hurry up, you don't want to be late to work, mister Director. The Planet would fall to ruins without you there to keep everyone on track.”

Clark could hear the amusement in the other’s voice. They interlaced their fingers when Bruce put one more kiss on Clark's lips and drew him in further despite his words. The simple gold bands around their fingers slid against each other with a soft click.

“Oh and Wayne Enterprises doesn't need your expertise?”

“Nope, one of the many upsides of owning the company is no one really expects you to show up to meetings as long as your signature is put on the right documents.”

“I will try to finish early.”

“You better. Did you forget we’re having dinner today with the Lanes, Queens and Diana tonight?”

Clark blushed heavily. It was not that he had forgotten the evening with their friends per se. It had just kinda slipped his mind, with all the work he had to do since he took over for Perry.

“Really, what would you do without me Clark?”

  
“I would be lost. I would be utterly and desperately lost without you, Bruce.”

And with this he slipped out of the door to their apartment and headed to their small car. Nothing fancy, but Clark didn't want fancy and Bruce understood. They settled for a small second hand van instead of one of the countless sport cars Bruce had parked at Wayne manor, where they went largely unused, like most of the other expensive things he owned and now stored at the manor. It always made Clark's heart swell with pride that he not only got to live with Bruce, but Bruce settled with Clark's lifestyle instead of forcing his on Clark. Sure he still had some standards, and they lived in an apartment that was way nicer than Clark's old one, but it was still a normal apartment and no penthouse. There were only small things Bruce insisted on needing, like the expensive shampoo or the comfortable bed, and Clark couldn't complain with how much he enjoyed those. Especially the soft bedsheets.

~ ~ ~

After work he didn't have time to get home before their meet up, so he just changed into a fresh shirt in the planet’s bathroom and headed to the meeting point on foot, since it wasn't far from the planet. He would get his car afterward or take the subway in the morning.

The small fish restaurant they had chosen was owned by Bibbo Bibbowski, an acquaintance of Clark’s. He had been an informant for an article back when Clark was still a young and struggling reporter. It was a small but cozy place with nice waiters, and the fish was the best in Metropolis. Even Bruce liked it, and he was used to high-class luxurious restaurants in Gotham. When he got inside Bibbo himself greeted him and led him to their already full table.

  
He sat down beside Bruce and wasted no time pressing a soft kiss to his husband’s lips. He had missed him, even if they had only seen each other in the morning. He enjoyed work, better said he loved it, but he couldn't help but wish he could spend all day with Bruce.

  
“Way to go, Smallville.”

Lois had a smug smile on her face. She still teased him endlessly when it came to his relationship with Bruce. To be fair, she was also the one who had to endure his endless rants and pining for the other man in the beginning. It was Lois shoving her interview with Bruce at him that made the relationship between them possible. He never thought Bruce would even remember a simple journalist, especially with the topic of the interview being a bland addition to the Metropolis building, but when he left he had Bruce’s phone number.

“Stop teasing him, Darling.”

Lois fiancée Richard White had an apologetic smile on his face. He was used to his wife always speaking her mind. It was really a wonder they hadn't taken their vows yet since they fit each other so well, but there had simply not been a perfect time yet, with Lois being oversees working on big stories so often. Richard sometimes went with her, but more often he had to stay at home to look after their child.

“Well at this point he is basically my brother, and as his sister it is my holy responsibility to tease him. Especially after having to listen to just how shining and perfect Bruce's eyes were, and how charming his smile. Not to speak about the time when... ”

“Come on, Lo!”

Clark's ears where a crimson color and he tried to make himself smaller despite his big stature. Naturally Bruce already knew most of this. Lois had wasted no time to make sure of it, but it was still embarrassing to have his own words parroted in front of his husband and friends.

Oliver Queen burst into loud laughter beside his wife Dinah, nearly pushing over his glass when he hit the table with his fist. Diana, the only one without a date at their table, caught it with quick reflexes and deposited it at Dinah's side, far away from Oliver's radius of accidents.

“I'm really proud you two overcame the obstacles and united. Hera truly intended you for each other. Your joining brought great fortune to the people around you.”

Clark couldn’t help but smile at how serious Diana was. It was always endearing to see her giving her best to blend in with the crowd, even though she always failed miserably. She was just too special and it fascinated Clark. Not in a romantic kind of way though – god knew he could never love someone else when Bruce was the one brightening up Clark's world.

This didn't stop him from wanting to visit her homeland out of curiosity, particularly if he could take Bruce with him to see it. But Diana had been fast to assure him they wouldn't be welcome there with the costume of her people, and he accepted that. If his friend didn’t want him to go see how she grew up, it was not because she was hiding something from him, but because it was best for him.

“So Bruce, tell me, how come WE stocks have overtaken QI's AGAIN this quarter even with you being distracted by your beautiful husband. Shouldn't you be staying home all day in bed like a typical newlywed and give me a chance at winning at least once?”

Bruce had a smug smile on his face. He couldn't help but be competitive. It was his nature, especially with an old childhood friend like Oliver. Clark had heard the wildest stories about their mischief in younger years, and they were always amusing.

“You know Ollie, I would never miss the chance to crush you. Plus even if I'm staying home, Clark still has to go to work, to my utter displeasure. And there is no better way to pass the time than messing with your company.”

“Ha, so you admit it! It is not just a coincidence WE snatched all these business deals from right under my nose! I knew it! And I really REALLY hate you right now, Bruce. Just so you know”

Bruce looked utterly unimpressed by Oliver's declaration, instead waving at the waitress and ordering some wine and fish for Clark and himself. Clark couldn’t help the bubble of happiness when Bruce picked his favorite. Even if they had eaten out a lot and had been here a few times it was still thoughtful of Bruce to remember it.

“No you don't. See it as payback for your... thoughtful wedding gift.”

“Oh come on! You give your absolute best friend one small gay strip-club on his wedding day and he starts ruining your company for it. It was only a really tiny one! And not even especially kinky. And with you soon to be chained for the rest of your life I thought it was a good idea to give you an outlet. How should I have known you would marry Adonis himself and therefore didn't need it?”

“Oh you would have known if you were at our announcement celebration. Or my Birthday party. Or Clarks Birthda...”  
  


“Okay okay. I understand. I will never ever dismiss an invitation of the great Bruce Kent-Wayne again. Jesus cut me some slack. I was on my honeymoon.”  
  


“...for 6 months?”

“It was a great honeymoon. The best honeymoon in fact. Did I ever tell you about the time we were in Paris in this hotel and they had this awesome pavilion right next to the pool? God it was so embarrassing when...”

Dinah interrupted him before he could spit some details of what exactly had been so embarrassing. His yelp when she stomped at his foot was clearly audible.

“Why don't you tell us about your work instead Diana? I heard you were in Rome recently for some artifact. Come on you can't tell me you were in Rome for three weeks and didn't meet anyone interesting. Not after I went out with you and we bought you this stunning red dress. No way you did not attract attention with it.”

Their conversation went on over dinner and some more drinks. Just them catching up with each other and enjoying each other’s company. It was really pleasant, but Clark had gotten up really early that morning and he felt his tiredness catching up with him. Still, he didn't want to be the first to leave after coming last. Also Bruce had so much fun and was laughing so loudly he didn't want to cut the time with their friends short. He withdraw himself from the conversation and just listened to the low rumble of Bruce's laugh and watched the pretty curve his lips made when smiling.

He got dragged out of his trance by Bruce's clear voice directed at him.

“It is getting late and I have to get my lovely husband to bed before he falls asleep here. Not that it isn't tempting to have an excuse to carry him to bed.”

Clark blushed at what Bruce so easily implied, but Olli broke the tension when he leaned over the table, engulfing Clark in an enthusiastic goodbye hug. Dinah only rolled her eyes when she had to catch his glass as he pushed it over again and drew Clark to her chest afterward. When all the goodbyes were given Clark got up. A hand was firmly placed on his arm, helping him to his feet. Bruce's arm moved to his waist and he guided Clark to the exit. When they stopped to pay Bruce didn't even give Clark an opening but just slipped his credit card over and paid for the whole table before Clark had the chance to get his wallet out.

“You know I'm the president of a newspaper? I can pay for dates from time to time”

Bruce just laughed as he led them in the direction of the park – a slightly longer way home, but way more beautiful than walking through the city.

“I know, beloved, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to spoil you rotten.”

“You can try, but you will find corrupting me to a life of luxury is quite a challenge.”

Both of them laughed now. Clark leaned against Bruce’s side, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of his husband.

“It was a beautiful evening. Sorry I cut it short.”

“Don't worry about it. I have the best time as long as I'm with you. No matter where, when, or with who. Just stay by my side.”

“Always. I love you Bruce.”

“I love you too Clark.”

~ ~ ~

“I was thinking we should do a film evening. Just you and me under a warm blanket, a bowl of popcorn, and this new detective movie you talked about last week. I have tomorrow off, so we can stay up all night. What do you say?”

Clark beamed with excitement. It had been a week till they could do something like this. Just them having a romantic evening – no fancy restaurant, no people around them. Not that he didn't enjoy something like that from time to time, but he always felt best just being alone with Bruce doing normal things. Like a comfortable film evening on their couch.

He had called Bruce's secretary this afternoon to make sure there were no unexpected morning meetings for Bruce, and his employees know that they shouldn’t call on a Sunday morning unless there was some weird alien in blue saving Metropolis, or something outstanding like that. He still remembered Cat Grant's raised eyebrow when that was his example for what must happen before someone was allowed to disturb him. It was weirdly specific, but in the moment it was just...in his head...kinda.

“Mhhh...yeah, sure why not.”

This answer put a damper on Clark's enthusiasm. He had really thought it was a nice idea to spend the evening together, especially with Bruce being so eager to see the movie when he talked about it.

“We don't have to if you aren’t in the mood. There will be other evenings.”

“No love, I'm sorry. I was lost in my head. It is just Wayne Enterprises. I would love to spend the evening with you. Just you and me together.”

He drew Clark in for a hug and softly kissed him on the lips. Clark's disappointment melted like butter in the sun. _How could he stay sad with Bruce pressing gentle kisses along his jaw murmuring endearing words?_

They settled down under a blanket, Clark pressed against Bruce’s side with Bruce's arm slung around him. Clark wore his old blue pajamas his mother had gifted him with the red and yellow triangle logos on the trousers with the S inside. No one knew anymore were they were from. They were topped by a pair of fluffy socks. It looked ridiculous but Clark didn't really care. It was super comfortable.   
  
He snuggled closer to Bruce in hope of getting the other man to brush his fingers through his hair, but nothing happened. Clark broke his gaze away from the TV screen and looked at Bruce – perhaps Bruce was just as caught up in the action on screen as Clark. But as it turned out, Bruce wasn’t even looking at the TV. Instead he was focused on the bookshelf beside it. Clark frowned but couldn’t see something out of the ordinary – only some detective novels Bruce liked to read in his free time, their wedding picture, and some selfies they had taken on dates, like with some acrobat family at the circus.

Whatever happened at Wayne Enterprises must be a really big deal if it kept Bruce busy like this. Hopefully there was not too much trouble. It was strange his secretary didn't mention anything of it when he called her a few hours ago. _Maybe she had just forgotten or didn't want to upset him?_

_~ ~ ~_

Clark came home a bit later than usual and he hated the fact he made Bruce wait, but just a few minutes before the end of his workday a big story came in. A real big story. Lex Luthor, the most important billionaire industrialist in Metropolis and owner of Lex Corp, was accused of bribing government officials. There was no real proof yet, but the fact that someone dared to accuse him of such things was outstanding. Lex was a model citizen who was always friendly and till now had always seemed transparent.

Clark didn't really believe in the rumor. On the occasions Clark had met Lex thanks to Bruce, the man had been friendly and modest. It was hard to imagine he suddenly changed without some major incident, and as far as Clark knew there had been nothing since Lex's father died some years ago. The man lived in a penthouse in Metropolis, was in a stable relationship with his secretary Mercy, and had a social life with many friends.   
  
He was even relatively close to Bruce, despite their companies being competitors. He was not at the wedding since it was a small reception with only family and their closest friends, but he had sent a wedding gift – a high class food processor Clark found really useful, no longer needing to chop everything by hand.

Despite all this, he still had to run the story if he wanted to sell papers, even if his heart was not in it. This made it even more important to get home and talk with Bruce about it.

“Bruce, I'm back. Sorry I'm late. But you won't believe the story coming in today. They are seriously accusing Lex of bribery. Can you believe it? Lex of all people! Bruce? BRUCE?”

He didn't get an answer while he hung up his coat on the rack. It was a present from Bruce and it was incredibly soft and warm, making it one of Clark’s favorites. He ventured deeper into their apartment looking for Bruce. Maybe the man had fallen asleep already or was in the shower.

But Bruce was not softly snoring in front of the playing TV and neither was he sleeping in their bed. The shower in the bathroom was off and the kitchen dark.

Clark searched their apartment twice just to be sure but came up empty. Bruce was really not here and Clark was worried. Bruce didn't say he would leave this evening and there was neither a note nor a text message. Only Clark's telling Bruce he would come home later today. Still unseen.

  
He tried calling, but Bruce's phone was not turned on. He called Wayne Enterprises and their friends but no one had an explanation to where his husband could have vanished to. He even called Alfred at the manor thinking maybe Bruce went there, but nothing.

Now Clark was really worried. _What if something had happened to Bruce? What if he went out today to go shopping or do his usual routine at the gym and something happened?_ There hadn't been any kidnappings and murders in over a decade so Clark shouldn't worry to much, but you never know. Maybe a mugging had gone wrong and Bruce was hurt. _There were still muggings, right?_ At least Clark thought so. There had been an article about the low number of criminals a few years back. Even if crime was an abnormality in modern society, it still happened from time to time.

Clark was really worried, but he couldn’t call the police yet – they would not take him seriously. There hadn't been a missing person case in over 6 years where the person didn't show up again in the following week. Most of the time it was just runaways, cheaters, or eccentrics who just wanted to get away from everything and everyone for a few days. But Bruce was not like them. He would not leave without telling Clark.

With no other choice Clark just waited. He sat on their couch with the TV playing and gazed at the clock every few minutes. His nerves were completely frayed within a few hours, but he didn't want to bother his friends any further and he had already called his mum twice, and she would need to be in bed now if she wanted to get up early tomorrow and tend to the farm. So Clark just curled into a small ball and watched the clock.

He must have fallen asleep. The next thing he knew there was a hand laying on his face and when he opened his eyes, Bruce was looking down at him in concern. He wasted no time and threw himself into Bruce’s arms and started sobbing. Even with there not been a real danger for Bruce he was still relived that the other was safe and sound.

Bruce combed his fingers through Clark's hair and held him close, whispering soothing words into his ears until Clark had calmed down again. The clock Clark had watched so extensively in the past hours read 4 in the morning, and this was no time when Bruce would usually come home.

  
“W-where were you? I-I thought... you weren't here a-and I...”

“Shh, it’s okay. I was at work. There was a problem. I'm so sorry. It was all so sudden. I panicked and forgot to leave a note. I'm so sorry for worrying you, Clark. Beloved, you know I would never do something to hurt you.”

“B-But your phone...?”

“My phone? It must have died.”

Clark didn't mention Bruce charged his phone every night and it would last at least two days. He also didn't mention calling Bruce's work and him not being there. He was just content with letting Bruce carrying him to their bed and falling back asleep curled up in his lover’s arms.

Bruce called in sick for him the next morning and they spent the whole day in bed making up for the previous night. Bruce brought Clark food and offered shoulder massages and plenty of kisses.

~ ~ ~

“You know babe, we haven't really been out in the last few weeks. We could go on a date again next Sunday. I got tickets for the Metropolis national museum of warfare – they opened the new exhibition last week after remodeling. It would be romantic going there. After all, we had our first official date there.”  
  


Clark remembered the day fondly. It had been shortly after his first interview with Bruce. Bruce had called him (hard to believe in the time of messages, but he had). His voice had been soft and a bit shaky, as if he were nervous. He said he was interested in visiting a museum in Metropolis and asked if Clark had time and the desire to join him. Clark hadn't hesitated to say yes – even if there had been something else like work, nothing could have stopped him from going to the museum with Bruce.

Bruce had picked him up at the door of Clark's small apartment and Clark had felt a bit uncertain with the poor state the place was in, especially since the elevator wasn’t working again this week, but Bruce hadn't said anything. He just greeted him and offered his elbow like a real gentleman and they walked to the museum. Like normal people. Just Bruce, a normal man, wanting to learn about Clark. No billionaire in sight.

Bruce had insisted on paying for the tickets, but it was just a small entry fee. They spent all day in the museum looking around and debating over the different exhibits, learning how similar they were and how there interest lined up.

When Clark couldn't hold back the embarrassing sound of his stomach they went to a small dinner on the corner and talked some more. Afterward Bruce walked him home.

All in all it had been so sweet and one of the nicest memories Clark had with Bruce.

“There is really nothing I would rather do, love. But I can't. There is this big project at WE and it is my responsibility. I can't just leave – people's jobs depend on it. But I promise we will go another time. I will come up with something great and we will have a fantastic date. Just not next Sunday.”

“Oh..okay...yeah...next time then.”

Clark's shoulders shank down and he looked like a kicked puppy while Bruce pressed a small kiss on his lips and left for an emergency meeting at WE. Clark could hold back the tears till the door closed behind Bruce, but then they fell with no restraint. He sunk to the floor whimpering.

Next Sunday would be their anniversary.

~ ~ ~

“Are you cheating on me, Bruce?”

Clark asked into the awkward silence filling the dinner table. He really hoped it was not the case and he was wrong, that there was another explanation, but he had come up with nothing and was slowly losing his mind being left in the dark like this. Even if the news was bad, it was better than not knowing and pretending everything was okay – than pretending that Bruce didn't slowly rip his heart out of his chest with every time he let Clark down. This had happened way too often in the past month.

Bruce set down his fork and knife very deliberately and looked at Clark with cold eyes.

“Why?”

Clark swallowed audibly and averted his eyes, looking at the food before him he had barely touched. His nerves were too strained and his mouth too dry to even think about eating, so he had mostly just pushed the food around with his fork.

He didn't really know how to explain his worries to Bruce without offending the other man. _How could he say he just wanted Bruce to have more time for him again because he felt lonely? How could he get Bruce to chase away his worries and shower him with love and affection without sounding selfish?_

  
“Well...you are gone so often.”

“I'm at work. Some of us need to actually achieve something.”

That hurt. Okay, a newspaper was not as great as THE industrial company, but still Clark worked hard. He gave his best and tried to make the Planet better.

“I called...t-they said...y-you never there.”

At this Bruce looked at him with piercing eyes and a bit of disappointment. Then he just shook his head and suddenly got up and left.

Clark stared dumbstruck at the empty chair across from him for a few moments until he hastily jumped up, knocking down his chair. He stumbled after Bruce, his shoulder colliding with the door and nearly making him topple over.

When he finally caught up to Bruce the other man was already in is coat and halfway out the door.

“Where are you going?”  
  


“Out.”

“Why?”  
  
“I need space!”

“Oh o-okay. I-I'm sorry for offending you. I didn't mean it. I was just so worried. When will you be back?”

“Bruce, when will you come back?”

“Bruce?”

“Bruce!”

Clark stared speechless as the door slammed close right into his face. Bruce was gone and Clark didn't know when or IF he would come back. And it was his fault. If he had just keep quiet and didn't make wild accusations Bruce would still be with him. Bruce was way out of Clark's league and had no real reason to content himself in a relationship with Clark.

He had way better options. Women were crazy over Bruce and even most men found him attractive. And many of these people were closer to Bruce’ living standards thean Clark would ever be. They would be happy to accompany Bruce to galas and events and would not hide like Clark. They wouldn’t force Bruce to move into a regular apartment, but would stay with him at the manor in Gotham were Bruce actually belonged. They would know what Bruce was talking about when he mentioned his work and they would be able to help out.

All in all Clark was totally unsuited to be Bruce's partner and this was the main reason why he had been so surprised when the other man not only noticed him, but initiated a relationship. Something Clark had ruined right now by doubting Bruce, and with this move he had lost him.

  
Now he could only hope Bruce would forgive him and come home soon so they could make up. Clark hated being apart from Bruce.

He curled up in their bed on Bruce's side and cried in the pillow, which still smelled like Bruce. He lost track of time until he finally passed out from exhaustion. _M_ _aybe Bruce would be back when he woke up?_

~ ~ ~

Bruce was not back when Clark woke up. Clark had called in sick today, his eyes were red and puffy and his throat still sore from crying. He didn't want anyone to see him like this and ask what happened. They would pity him or think he got what he deserved. Many people were jealous of his relationship with Bruce and wished nothing more than for them to break up and give them a chance at winning Bruce's heart.

Clark called Bruce but the man never picked up, so Clark left some apology messages for him and begged the other man to come home to talk. Or not talk, if he didn't feel like it. After 32 messages Clark knew he was desperate, but he didn't care. Maybe Bruce would listen to his next message and finally come back home.

Clark got hungry in the afternoon. He hadn't eaten dinner yesterday evening after all. He finally managed to get to the kitchen but did not clean up the remainders of yesterday’s disaster. He couldn’t stay in the kitchen without breaking into tears, so he moved to the living room and nibbled at some dry toast slices. But the more time passed the more uncomfortable he got.

He remembered all the times he spent with Bruce here and thinking about the fact that maybe he would never get the chance to spend time with Bruce again made him anxious. He was already halfway out of the apartment, coat in hand when he stopped.

_What would happen if Bruce came home to talk and Clark was not there?_ He could just leave and Clark would never know about it. So Clark got back into the living room and start pacing, coat still in hand.   
  
After half an hour with no ideas how to deal with the situation and with his nails bleeding from biting them he moved to the bathroom.

It was slightly better. It was less personal. Not that here weren't also some reminders of Bruce, like the stupid shampoo Clark threw out of the room after five minutes, but it was bearable. Not fine but bearable.

He settled down in the bathtub, covering himself with the coat he had forgotten to let go of and had consequently brought to the bathroom. He dozed off for the rest of the day, still exhausted mentally and physically. When he woke up he left a message on Bruce’s phone and drank some water, not really feeling up to leaving the room and going back into the kitchen for food. He wasn't hungry anyway.

It was only when Clark woke up in complete darkness he realized Bruce hadn't come home all day. He looked at the light switch at the other end of the room but he simply couldn't find the energy to move. So he stared into darkness just thinking about Bruce and his heart ached from longing.

He woke up really early and watched the colors in the room change red when the sun came up. He couldn't really watch the sun directly rise through the frosted glass of the window, but it had always been more of a thing Bruce liked to do. Clark had always been too busy admiring Bruce to concentrate on the nature.

  
He called into work sick, leaving for the rest of the week. He had never really been ill before, so the receptionist didn't question the honesty of his statement and just told him to get healthy soon.To be fair Clark wasn't really lying – he felt sick. And just like a sick person he didn't feel hungry, so he just stayed in the bathroom, converting the rug on the floor to some kind of bedding in the tub to get more comfortable and warm. Even with the head turned up the tub was still no good place to sleep, especially not for his neck and back.

He was briefly debating leaving his safe heaven and get a charger when his phone reminded him of the sinking battery level with beeping noises, but in the end he stayed where he was. Work was dealt with and it was not as if Bruce would call. The man had probably not even listened to Clark's old messages and the last few tries Clark couldn't even get through. So Bruce's phone was either turned off because he got too annoyed with Clark bothering him, or his phone was dead already.

Clark left his phone on the counter of the sink and curled back into his rug-coat nest and tried to sleep, feeling miserable and hopeless.

“-ark. Clark! CLARK! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Clark didn't really feel like waking up from the blissful numbness of his sleep but thanks to the shouting he was awake anyway. Plus his back was aching after laying in this uncomfortable position for too long. So he blinked his eyes open and took a few moments to make out the bathroom in the dusky light.

  
 _Huh? Had he really slept all day?_ Even with this much rest he felt more exhausted then before he went to sleep.

He got to his feet, heavily leaning on the rim of the tub. He didn't stop the coat from falling to the ground and instead stretched a bit. His back was so stiff that it cracked when he moved and he felt pain when he straightened up.

Clark was still not fully awake yet, otherwise the panicked shouting, hasty footsteps, and banging doors would concern him. Now he just felt slightly confused about the noise, since he was the only one home, but curiosity got the better of him and standing in the bathtub would not solve this mystery.

So he moved to the door, wincing when his whole body hurt, and pulled it open. He blinked as he stepped through, blinded by all the lamps that had been turned on. When he finally had clear vision he didn't see anyone, and just stood there all dressed up with nowhere to go with a frown on his face. This was until the door to Bruce's and his bedroom got thrown open with so much force it hit the wall. Some of the roughcast splintered of the wall and fell to the ground. From the doorway Bruce stormed into the living-room, looking disheveled and out of breath.

And Clark just stared.

Bruce was back. Bruce had finally come back home. But Clark was still wary. Even if Bruce was back, it didn't mean everything was okay. Far from it. He had never before seen Bruce make a face like this. Anxious but also mixed with anger and gritted teeth.   
  
Clark just hoped the anger was not directed at him. Oh, who was he kidding, after the way Bruce had left two days ago it was probably directed at him, and Bruce not being able to find and confront him about their fight right away presumably did nothing to dampen his emotion. But it was hardly Clark's fault – he didn't expect Bruce to come home at all. He had no way of knowing he would want to talk at some point instead of just pretending Clark didn't exist anymore.

He was about to tell Bruce just that, possibility of the situation exploding be damned, when Bruce barreled into Clark with his full weight. Clark was unprepared for an attack and Bruce was a heavy man, so Clark tried to keep them upright but failed miserably. After stumbling back a few steps they fell to the ground.

His back didn't take well to the impact (there would be colorful bruises tomorrow) and Bruce landing on him and elbowing his stomach didn't really help with Clark's discomfort. He just groaned in pain and gathered himself. He should push Bruce off and get some advantage if Bruce wanted a real fistfight, but it seemed like a lot of effort, and he would most likely not even succeed in getting the other man off with Bruce laying limp on top of him. However, a fight seemed unlikely, given the quiet groan Bruce made. Even with Clark taking most of the impact, some part of Bruce must have made contact with the hard tiles.

Then Bruce just laid there doing nothing. Clark was really confused about what had happened. It didn't seem like Bruce was still angry enough to start a fight, and Clark hadn't really thought Bruce would start one. Bruce may get angry sometimes but he would never raise his hand against anyone. So it was understandable that Clark had a hard time figuring out why Bruce chose to greet him after days of radio silence by tackling Clark to the ground.

“I couldn't find you. I thought you were gone.”

“I'm pretty sure it was you who stormed out of here two days ago and hasn't bothered to send even a sign of life.”

Yes, he was well aware he was being snippy but Clark didn't care. Screw Bruce. He had no right to just vanish for days only to reappear and suddenly act worried. If he really cared he shouldn’t have left in the first place, or at least should’ve contacted Clark in some way.

“This came out wrong. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I was just so afraid. I came back and everything was dark, the plates where still in the kitchen, and you were nowhere to be seen. I thought you left. Rightfully so after what I put you through. I thought I took the best thing in my entire life and just broke it.”

Bruce had curled his arms around Clark and pressed him close. He instantly let go when he noticed Clark's discomfort at the gesture. Even if Clark stiffening was mostly based on the pain caused by the pressure on his bruises he was still glad when Bruce let go. He was still too angry and didn't really know where they stood as a couple.

Bruce got himself off of Clark and into a sitting position. When Clark tried to get up Bruce reached for him to help but stopped himself from touching Clark. His hands dropped to his side where he put them into the pockets of his trousers only to take them out moments later to straighten his clothes. The same clothes he had worn the day he left. Good to know Clark was not the only one looking out of it.

“I'm sorry. I'm so so terribly sorry Clark. I know it is not enough and you have no reason to ever forgive me for this, and if you want to break this off I could totally understand, but please, please don't leave me. I don't wanna be without you.”

Clark looked at Bruce – _really_ looked at Bruce. Not only was he wearing his old clothes, he hadn't shaved in days, had dark bags under his eyes, greasy hair, and his nails were ragged. Not that Clark looked any better. They looked both miserable but that was the point. This was not the look of someone leaving a relationship behind. This was desperation, hurt, and depression. Bruce was just as lost as Clark.

“You are not cheating?”

“God no! I would never. Never ever cheat on you. I love you. I love you so much. I couldn’t live without you. I don't need someone else in my live but you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah okay. Just...never do something like this again. Don't leave me behind again. There will be no next time.”

“I swear to you Clark, I will stay with you. Always.”

~ ~ ~

After this incident things didn't just go back to normal and it was far from perfect, but they made it work somehow. They tried, especially Bruce. They went on a lot of dates and spent basically every minute together when Clark was not working. Bruce even showed up at work from time to time and just brought Clark coffee, stayed for a few minutes to talk and left afterward to go on with his day. With time they got closer to each other again.

They never really forgot the indecent, but all couples have some hardships they need to overcome. And they learned a lot about each other and started caring even deeper for each other.

So it was no wonder Bruce and Clark found themselves having brunch with Diana and Oliver. Lois was out of the country again and Dinah was busy with something at work. Oliver had failed miserably to explain what it was, not really knowing himself what exactly his wife did all day, but she was happy with her job so he was happy.

They had a really good time and it was great to see their friends again after they had spent the past month basically glued to each other. The atmosphere was easygoing, or as easygoing as it could get with Diana still being a bit stiff and formal but that was just Diana, and Oliver made up for it by being as causal as you could get.

All in all it was really nice until Bruce suddenly grabbed Clark by the shoulders hard enough to make Clark wince in pain from the strong grip. Then he just shook Clark with a furious but also panicked face.

“-ERMAN! CLARK! WAKE UP! WE NEED YOU! YOU CAN FIGHT IT. YOU ARE STRONGER THAN THIS!”

As soon as it started it was over and Bruce just let Clark go and continued sipping his coffee as if nothing had ever happened. Clark was dazed and just stared wide eyed at Bruce for some time, not understanding what had happened. He looked at Diana for some reassurance, but she just continued to speak with Bruce about this artifact she wanted for a museum exhibit, asking if Bruce could use his contacts to make an appointment with the owner. Oliver at her side just munched at his third piece of cake until he noticed Clark staring.  
  
“Hey everything okay over there? You look out of it? Something wrong?”

“You didn't notice?”  
  
“Notice what?”

Bruce was leaning in Clark's space, hands worried on Clark's face.

“Never mind I must have imagined it.”

_And he must have, right?_ There was no way everyone else would be able to ignore Bruce shouting like this. But this only worried Clark more. _What was wrong with his brain to just come up with a scenario like this?_ Especially when he should be happy and occupied with their friends.

Work wasn't this stressful right now and he had enough sleep. _M_ _aybe he should go see someone and talk about his problems?_ Apparently he wasn't as over his fight with Bruce as he had thought. _Perhaps he should just talk to Bruce himself?_ But then his husband might blame himself, and Clark didn’t want to trouble him any further.

He excused himself to go to the bathroom and splash some water into his face. Bruce’s worried gaze followed him all the way.

When he stood before the mirror there was nothing unusual. Just his blue eyes staring back at him. His shoulder ached when he rubbed his face dry with one of the scratchy paper towels. Curious, he shook off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. When it fell from his shoulder he gasped in shock.

On his shoulders were red marks. It was hard to tell with the bruises still forming but Clark was pretty sure they would be visible hand prints when they turned blue tomorrow. And they would match Bruce.

He was not going insane or imagining things. Bruce’s outburst had been real. More than real. _But why hadn't anyone in the restaurant noticed anything? What was being played here?_ This was not something that should happen. Everyone was acting normal as if nothing was off, besides Bruce. Bruce was the one acting odd. Not only today, but for the past few months now.

But still, everyone else was also acting strangely just ignoring Bruce's behavior – no one had asked about Bruce’s disappearance again after Clark had called around the first time. It was just as if they had forgotten Clark had called all of them in the middle of the night.

It would be easy to just say Bruce was the odd one out and they both needed some therapy sessions to get over it, still this just didn't fit right. _So as absurd as it sounded maybe Bruce was the normal one?_

_Maybe something was wrong with everyone else and Bruce was the only one noticing it? What could be wrong with everyone else for them to not notice?_ Lois was usually so observant, knowing a big story before everyone else. That she had failed to do so implied something was keeping her of track. And that, whatever it was, made Clark's chest clench in concern. 

No matter what the truth may be it was all connected to Bruce, and Clark would find out what was going on no matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

Clark started his investigation on Bruce's odd behavior the easy way – by dedicating a notebook to it. He wrote down all the observations he made in the past months as detailed as he remembered and sorted them by date. The first thing he noticed here was that it started way earlier than expected, with Bruce just being late a few minutes or distracted for a bit.

The events got more and more noticeable, and the time between events grew shorter. Until their big fight when everything just stopped until their brunch.

With this being done he started asking around if anyone else noticed something but came up empty. His time spent going through old notes and articles from the Planet also came up empty, and the internet was even less helpful.

But at least now Clark knew it was all connected to Bruce. Or at least the times he was acting strange. Sometimes Bruce just forgot himself (like in the restaurant), really believed he was at work when he clearly wasn't, or couldn’t really explain why he did something (like when they fought) and woke out of a trance trying to explain what had happened.

So Bruce was not doing any of this knowingly, but his subconscious clearly made him do things. And with him not really remembering anything it was like a message for Clark. _What else could it be?_ He was the only one aware of the strange things happening. And it made sense why it had stopped after their fight. If Bruce had acted strange before their relationship was on course again Clark could just have left and then there would be no one left to receive the messages.

So Clark made a plan. Since Bruce couldn’t remember what happened when he came home there was only an option left – Clark needed to be there with him. Easier said than done. Bruce couldn't know he was there or he would act normal, and sending someone with more experience, like a private investigator after Bruce would not work because this person would just forget what they had found out. Just like everyone else.

So Clark really had no choice but to stalk Bruce and lie to him about being at work. And he felt bad about it. He truly did. _But what other choice did he have if he wanted to find out the truth?_

But even with his resolves set on following Bruce it was harder to go through with it than Clark had thought. Even with Clark dedicating his whole day to waiting in the small shop opposite their apartment he missed the first few times Bruce left and only noticed his mistake when Bruce was standing in front of the building getting the mail.

So Bruce must use another way to sneak out than the front door. And usually Clark was proud of how smart his husband could be but now it just made the whole situation more complicated.

But Clark was able to adapt, so he spent the whole weekend searching for other exits out of their apartment. There were not many. For one there was the fire escape outside of their living room window. It would explain why Bruce didn't came back the same way. The window had been shuttered from the outside by the landlord for safety reasons and could only have been opened from the inside.

Every other window was either only opening partly like the one in the bathroom, or had a straight drop to the ground. Outside of their living space were only the windows in the different floors. But even if two stories down the window faced the roof of the neighboring building it would still be a big and dangerous jump. It seemed more likely Bruce used the fire exit.

So Clark wore some baggy clothes and a hat in hope of not being recognized and waited at the edge of the building with a newspaper in hand. He really though he was wrong about this when for the next hours nothing happened, but Clark's stubbornness got rewarded when he saw a figure coming down the fire escape.

He let Bruce pass hiding behind his newspaper hoping Bruce would not see him, but the other man luckily paid him no mind. He followed with some distance between them. Too much distance. When they entered the busy shopping street he immediately lost Bruce in the crowd and couldn’t find him again. So he went home in defeat.

His next try found Clark in some old working clothes he still had from the time he had helped Lois renovate her apartment. It was before he started going out with Bruce so the man should not know the clothes. Plus a worker on lunch break would not raise too many suspicions. Still Clark dragged the cap deeper into his face when Bruce passed by again.   
  
And from here their journey began through the whole of Metropolis. Bruce really made it hard for anybody to follow or anticipate where he went. Mostly by going through crowded places like malls, trains stations, plazas, and office buildings.

Clark was really having trouble with his stamina after following Bruce for hours through Metropolis. So he was relieved when they entered a train and didn't get off on the next station right away.

Rather the opposite. Wherever they were going, it was far away from Metropolis. His suspicions were confirmed when they switched trains at Gotham's main station.

_Maybe he was really heading for Wayne Enterprises today? Or he was visiting the manor?_ But Bruce going to Gotham was something Clark should’ve expected.

They took an old rattling bus a few stops and still had to walk a few blocks. The more they walked, the poorer their surroundings got. The buildings got older and older, some nearly falling apart, but they were clearly still lived in, with people inside and the lights on and clothes drying on lines stretched between buildings. This went on till they got to a street with girls in short skirts and skintight dresses standing on the corners.

“Hey sexy, want to have some fun?”  
  


Clark squeaked when long nails were laid on his arm and a warm body pressed against his side.

“N-no thank you. Not that you are not a beautiful woman. You totally are. But no thank you. Ähm...I have to go?”

When he finally managed to lose her grip and get away, Bruce was nowhere in sight.

_What would Bruce be doing here?_ Him being in a place like this brought Clark's suspicion of him cheating back and jealousy burned in him. Sure he had read a lot of articles about Bruce going out with beautiful models before they met, switching them every week, yet he was in love and stupid and he had just thought Bruce had changed since then. Knew that Clark was enough for him. That he didn't need women anymore.

Apparently Clark had been wrong.

  
When he got home he hurled the notebook against the wall and tossed it in his messenger bag for good measure to depose of it tomorrow at work.

~ ~ ~

“Hey Clark do you have a notebook you can lend me?”  
  


“Really Lois, you don't bring one? What kind of reporter forgets a notebook for an interview?”  
  


“The kind that normally has a recorder? How should I have known the rich prick doesn't want any sort of electric devices near him? So have you?”  
  


Clark signed heavily. Lois was only back for two weeks and she already acted as she had never left. He rummaged through his bag looking if he had brought a spare notepad like he sometimes did. He found the binding of a book and took it out. Strange – he didn't remember packing a spare notebook for his last articles.

  
He opened a random page and skimmed over his own handwriting.

_...still no proof of anyone noticing Bruce's strange behavior. B just stared at birds (Robins?) in a tree for 15 minutes. Diana showed no sign of noticing his action. When questioned she and him had no recollection of the event. Bystanders (jogger, hot dog stall owner) had no recollection of the event either. Event is recorded on my phone under the number B00334..._

_...B00334 has vanished...it is just gone..._

Clark just dropped the note book. _How could he have forgotten this? HOW COULD HE JUST HAVE FORGOTTEN? WHAT WAS HAPPENING HERE?_

“Jesus Clark, what's wrong with you?”  
  


Lois leaned down and put the notebook back into his shaking hand. And Clark...Clark just stared at it and remembered. Remembered everything. From Bruce's behavior to his trying to follow him to...the sex workers.

But there must have been something else here at work. _How else could all these events just have been wiped from his mind?_

  
“I-I n-need...I need to go!”

He pushed his real notebook into Lois’ hand. The one he had planned on using tonight to get some stories at Lex’s gala for his newest invention. He stormed out of the building. Clark didn't care that he’d be missing perfect interviews. Either Lois picked up the ones he was supposed to do or she didn't. His amnesia was so much more important than some rich bastards boasting about their non-existent achievements.

He called a taxi and read frantically through the notebook on his way home. He already remembered but still he felt like he needed to cling to the book or he would forget.

Why was it still intact but the video got wiped from his phone...

Recorder. Electronic device. Lois’ words echoed in his head. So maybe only digital versions could get erased!

“To the Daily Planet!”

His driver looked at him like he had lost his mind but Clark didn't care. He was too excited to prove his theory.

When they finally arrived at the Planet Clark was agitated and his leg would not stop bouncing.

  
“Wait here.”

Clark stormed inside the building, taking two stairs at a time when the elevator didn't arrive fast enough. He found what he was looking for in one of the older storage rooms. He made sure there was still film in the camera and found some fitting batteries before he storming out of the building again and back into the taxi, which thankfully still waited for him.

When he arrived home he tossed the money at the driver, not caring that he had paid around 50 dollars too much. It was worth it.

When he got inside the apartment was empty. He hadn't expected otherwise. He grabbed his car keys in a haste and run down to the parking garage. Luckily Bruce never took the car when he was acting strange.

~ ~ ~

His drive to Gotham was barely under the speed limit and he really wanted to go faster, but getting pulled over would not help, and he couldn’t explain to Bruce why he had to get to Gotham so fast if he got a speed ticket because Bruce would stop acting this way. Or Clark would forget again.

So he had to dive at a speed nearly driving him insane. But the problem only began when he was in Gotham. The city may not be as big as Metropolis but it was still large, and he had no idea where Bruce was. So he drove around to the street he had followed Bruce to last time. Then he parked the car in a spot that looked relatively safe, praying it would still be there when he came back.   
  
He just ran around through the poorest neighborhood of Gotham and finally found him just as he slipped inside an abounded looking warehouse. A really shady warehouse. He fumbled with the camera in panic but managed to take some pictures just when Bruce passed through the window under one of the Gothic street lamps.

He waited but Bruce never came back out. He must have found another way out. So Clark drove back home. His car had survived being left alone but there had been some kids lingering around it when he came back.

When he came home exhausted and nearly falling asleep on his feet, he wasn't surprised to see Bruce awake. The man couldn’t have arrived soon before him. It was kinda unfair he didn't look as exhausted as Clark.

  
“Hard interviews at the gala?”  
  


“Yeah it got kinda...intense.”

~ ~ ~

Clark still got to work the next morning (or rather, the same morning – he hadn’t slept for the rest of the night because he was too excited to get the photo developed).

Lois was a bit hard to shake off but he just told her he had forgotten some important date with Bruce. _And it was kinda true, wasn't it?_ Well technically it was more of a surprise than an actual date, with Bruce not knowing about it and all, but it was all the same in the end.

Lois let him of the hook after a short talk about how important it was to think about his partner in a relationship and to not just forget him.

It took nearly 13 minutes till he found Jimmy and he drove all of his employees mad. They were so fed up with him running around and driving them insane they looked for Jimmy themselves. All of them were relieved when Jimmy finally showed up with some bagels in hand from the backer across the street and left them on Lois and his desk.

And Clark used the chance of Jimmy being in his office to corner him.

“Can you develop this film for me?”  
  


“Wha! Oh Clark. It's you. You are here earlier than I had expected. They said you had the morning off. Wasn't there a thing last night? Even Lois came in later than usual. But she still look better than you. No offense you look like you didn't sleep. Oh, you probably didn't? Big scoop or something?”

“Jimmy. Jimmy! The film?”  
  


“Oh sure just put it on my desk. I will develop it when I'm done with the photos for Cat.”

“Now Jimmy. Please.”  
  


“Okay yeah. Sure why not. I will bring it to your desk.”  
  


Clark didn't get any work done this morning. Just walking through his office or bouncing his leg when sitting on his chair. Not that he sat much – he always got up right away and continued pacing around. When Jimmy finally came through the door he flung himself at him, bumping his hip against the table and his desk chair spinning behind him.

  
“Wow this must be hella important.”  
  


“It is.”

Clark answered a bit breathless and grabbed the pictures with shaking fingers. He didn't notice Jimmy left when he fell back into the chair.

The first picture was to dark, the second one blurry, the third one just showed the facade of the biding.

  
_What if there was no usable picture? What if Bruce would not be in the picture?_

  
Then he saw the forth one. And froze. This was not Bruce.

Well it kinda was Bruce. It had to be Bruce. He only took pictures of Bruce. And this person was climbing through the window just as Bruce did. So it must be Bruce.

But it looked nothing like him. This figure was dark even under the streetlight. Long lines of a dark material enveloped the figure and concealing any details. Almost like a pair of wings. This train of thought was backed by the two spikes on it's smooth leathery head. They reminded Clark of horns, like the ones a devil would have. Altogether the horrific figure looked demonic, unlike his husband Whatever was going on here, Clark was way further down the rabbit hole than he had thought. And he would be damned if he didn't get down the whole way.

~ ~ ~

And after this he followed Bruce whenever he got the chance. He never got another lucky shot like that. Bruce always managed to sneak out undetected somewhere beside the fire escape, lose Clark in the crowd, or just slip away in Gotham's alleys.

And Clark got really nervous the longer it took him to find something. He always feared he would forget again. Just one day wake up and no longer remember what had happened, and live his life without investigating. He was scared of this possibility – more scared than anything he could find out.

It was just another night like so many before with Clark struggling to keep up with Bruce. It would be so much easier if he just could use the GPS on Bruce's phone, but he either left it at home or turned it off, leaving Clark with no other choice than to do the actual footwork. Luckily he was old fashioned enough he had at least a bit of experience with actual investigations.

Suddenly a body collided with him and Clark had staggered to keep on is feet. His eyes never left Bruce’s slowly vanishing back. If he did he would lose the man. He pushed past the person who had bumped into him ignoring his apologies. Not caring it was only meant to distract him.

First of all he couldn't care less when he had the chance to follow Bruce. Second he was not stupid enough to take his real wallet with ID and credit cards when he was running through Gotham’s worst neighborhood. Here the message of no more crime had not really arrived yet, but the worst crimes were thefts like this – no more robberies and gun violence. Even if crime was nearly extinguished, poverty was still something the government was working on. And if a person was desperate enough to steal, this person needed the money more than Clark.  
  
That's why he took a false wallet with him with some cash he didn't mind someone stealing. It was the only thing he could do to help. And publish some articles from time to time bringing attention to the situations and ask people to support the charities.

He had to run to get closer to Bruce again and stumbled around a corner where he had seen Bruce going just seconds ago, only to run into him. _Or not...?_

When he grabbed onto Bruce to stop himself from falling his hands grabbed a wall of black heavy fabric which fell to the floor. It was cold, felt almost like leather but also different. It was hard to describe but Clark never felt something like this before.

When he looked up he didn't see Bruce's face only horns. The same ones he had seen in the picture. Only they were a lot more formidable in person.

When Bruce, or the thing Clark thought must be Bruce, turned around there were no eyes visible in the dark face. Only expressionless cold lenses. A shiver ran down Clark's spin and he felt terrified. More afraid than ever before. Normally there was nothing to be afraid of besides accidents, and they were so sudden and unexpected you were not really afraid because they only happened to someone else.

But this figure was fear itself. Clark couldn’t look away. He was frozen in place. His muscles weren’t not doing what they should do. Run away from the danger. Get somewhere safe. He could hear his heart beating fast and his breath coming out wrong. But he couldn’t get away. Or get his voice to work.

But there was also a strange kind of fascination about the person before him. A silly, dangerous kind of fascination, but Clark couldn’t help but want to get closer and find out more. Something inside him felt drawn to the figure. Maybe it was the knowledge this had to be Bruce, maybe it was something else.

But for some reason he was sure it was Bruce, even if it didn't make much sense. Bruce would not even have enough time to change into an outfit like this, but somehow Clark just knew that this was Bruce.

In the next moment gloved hands pried Clark's finger from the fabric and Clark got a push at the chest which let him stumble back a few steps. Bruce in turn took back several steps.

And with this Clark got the chance to look around. They were in an alleyway like any other in this part of the city. Behind Bruce was a theater. The facade was crumbling, the windows broken and bolted with wooden planks. The neon letters once proudly announcing the name of the theater had fallen from the wall or were flickering. Garbage was blocking the entry completely and it was hard to make out more details with the broken streetlight.

All in all this place gave Clark the creeps. It was way worse than any other place he had followed Bruce to. The rest of this part of the city was bad, but it was still livable. This was different. This place screamed abounded and broken. _What could Bruce possibly want here?_

And he was just about to ask when Bruce started moving again and Clark just ran after him not wanting to lose this chance to finally figure things out.

“Wait! Bruce! WAIT!”

But Bruce didn't wait.

They just kept on running. And somehow the environment just got worse and worse the further they went. They rounded a corner into a smaller street and Clark just stumbled and leaned on his knees after this sprint when Bruce finally stopped again.

And he was just standing there. Clark finally had enough of waiting and stepped forward to demand answers.

But before he could a man stormed out of a small backstreet and pulled a gun out of his coat. And Clark froze. He never had seen a gun so close besides occasionally on a police officer.

And then a shot rang out and a black figure was in front of him.  
  
“BRUUUUUUUCE!”

And Bruce fell.

Clark fell to his knees at his side in a heartbeat. His hands pressing on the wound. His fingers wet and slippery from all the blood still poring through. The ground around Bruce was still getting wetter and wetter. The bullet had gone right through. Two holes. But surprisingly no hit on Clark.

So much blood.

Everything was red.

  
Just red.

...Bruce.

God he couldn't lose him. He...God..no. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.

“I-It was the only way...to save you. Y-you need. I...We need you. J-Just...Just wake up...Superman. J-just w-wake up...now.”

And with this the breathing underneath Clark's finger's stopped. Clark's hand trembled when he eased the cowl off Bruce's face leaving red smearing behind. The once lively eyes of Bruce just starred motionless in the sky slowly glazing over.

“...B-Br...”

Clark just sobbed. He starred down on his husband and he couldn’t believe this. This couldn’t be real. There hadn't be a murder in years. THIS WAS NOT ALLOWED TO HAPPEN. Bruce couldn’t be dead. BRUCE WAS NOT ALLOWED TO BE DEAD. This had to be a dream. Clark had just to wake up and everything would be fine again. Bruce had said it: Clark had to wake up.

So he closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. And then he woke up.

… or at least he thought so.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark breathed, not wanting to open his eyes just yet. _What if nothing had changed?_ Obviously nothing had changed. You didn't just wake up from the worst moment of your life and everything was okay again.

Not wanting to see the reality before him, all the blood, he didn't open his eyes. If he didn't open his eyes he would not see Bruce's maltreated body before him. He could pretend it had never happened. Could pretend everything was fine and he could go home to Bruce and continue to live his life in peace and happiness.

He didn't want to lose Bruce.

But he couldn’t live a fantasy forever, no matter how bad he wanted to. So he opened his eyes.

Everything was white with only a shallow shade of blue mixed in. The floor was smooth and shimmered in the light falling in from above. Ice like crystals formed a dome over his head, breaking the light and painting beautiful colors all over the place. The light danced over Clark's trembling hands when he held them up.

No blood.

So he had finally gone mad. Losing Bruce had broken him.

All of this was just an illusion. A trick of the mind to handle the loss of Bruce. Something like this couldn't exist except in dreams.

But even if this was a trick Clark didn't mind hiding a bit longer. As long as everything was white he didn't have to see the blood on the ground. And there was still enough time later to cry and suffer.

On his left was a doorway leading up through a pointed arch and into darkness. And Clark didn't really feel comfortable going there.

  
The centerpieces of this masterful architectural performance were the two huge crystal statues before him. A man and a woman both donning long robes with detailed worked out folds. The man wore a big S on his chest where a cape was attached, which flooded down his back.

They were holding up a gigantic sphere between them. In it, an upside down reflection of the whole dome. The light was reflecting off the sides of the sphere, giving it a halo.

His mind came up with such elaborate illusions to cope with his loss.

It was so breathtaking Clark didn't really notice the big doorway between the statues. The folding doors were closed and would have blended in with the walls all around Clark if it were not for the decorations and the ring in place of the handle.

Clark crossed through the huge open space to the door, wanting to know what laid behind them. They were gigantic – three times his size and he had to take a few steps back again to be able to see them in their entirety. There would normally be no way he’d have a remote chance of opening them. They must weigh a ton, with them being made out of the same crystals as the rest of this building. But this was an illusion to compensate for Clark's pain and loss, so there was always a possibility he could move it.

  
He grabbed the handle and pulled. And pulled. But nothing happened. Maybe this was not such a great illusion as he had thought, with him being trapped in here. He could try the stairs, but he would need some sort of light source.

He rummaged through his pockets for his phone. Or he would have if his clothes had pockets. For the first time he looked down and saw some weird dead plant thing stuck on his chest. It was disgusting and he pulled it off with two fingers and flung it to the side, far away from himself. Then he cleaned his fingers on the red and gold laying underneath. It was some sort of red triangle and an S on a gold background. Okay technically it was a reversed triangle with him looking from the top. But nevertheless it was strange. It was the same symbol like on the male statue. Or his pajama pants. He must really must have lost consciousness from shock and dreamed now. _Why else would the symbol from his pants be here?_

  
The rest of his body was clad in skin tight blue fabric. It had a strange sort of texture to it and felt almost like water under his fingertips. He felt around a bit more until his fingers hit a different kind of fabric. He pulled it to the front and it was bright red. He tugged and felt a slight pull at his shoulders.

He let the fabric loose and turned around, and it swung out and curled around him. He had a freaking cape. A bright red cape and blue tights. He must look so ridiculous right now.

He leaned against the doors thinking about what a dream like this said about him. _How did he even come up with this nonsense?_

And he promptly stumbled to the side when one of the doors gave under the pressure and swung open. His fall was cushioned by the deep layer of snow.

Clark could feel the cold under his bare hands even if it didn't really bother him and he just stared. Stared at the endless white reaching till the horizon. All of it untouched except the part his body had just left a mark in.  
  
He was in absolute nowhere in a crystal castle in deep winter. _How hadn't he frozen yet? How did the cold not bother him? And how had he enough power to open doors like that and move the top layer of snow blocking it away? And why wouldn't his mind stop playing tricks on him and let him back?_

He had no answer but he would find nothing in this snow. So he got back inside and closed the door behind it. He pulled the massive door back into place with one hand.

Not really knowing what to do, he inspected the doom further. In the exact center of it was a single crystal shaped like a cylinder which reached to Clark's hips.

He just touched it out of curiosity. It was smooth but warm under his fingers.

Then there was a bright flashing light and Clark stumbled back a few steps in shock. Even with it only being a dream it was still shocking.

But not as scary as feeling Bruce's breath stop under his fingers as Bruce went limb in his arms. At first it had been good to get a moment to breathe away from the corpse, but now Clark didn't want to be here anymore. He just wanted to get back to Bruce, even if there was nothing left. Even if Bruce was long gone he needed to get back – needed to watch over him.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed in Bruce's arms. But even if this was no longer possible, even going back to destruction and misery was better than staying in this lie. To pretend this was reality would not help the pain.

“Hello, Kal-El.”

A melodic voice rung out before him and Clark made an utterly embarrassing high pitched scream. Before him stood a man in a tunic. He had appeared out of nowhere. Clark was sure he had not been in the dome a second ago.

  
“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt or something. I didn't even know why I'm here. I don't even wanna be here. Oh no that came out wrong. Don't misunderstand. This place is beautiful but I really need to leave now. You see my husband just got shot and then I was here but I really need to get back. And I don't know how but I...”  
  


“Kal-El. Kal. KAL!”

Clark stopped his panicked rambling and starred at the man with wide eyes.

“Kal-El listen to me...”

“Who...?”  
  


And now the man before Clark was stunned into silence.  
  
“...You don't remember?”

“Remember what?”

The person had a worried frown on his face and took a step forward. Clark in return took two steps back when the stranger reached for him. Only then did he notice the stranger would have had to go around the cylinder but he didn't. He went right through it.   
  
Clark squinted and he really could see through the man. Not completely, but he could spot the shape of the cylinder behind the guy.

“Y-You are a ghost! Oh God. Please don't haunt me! I will leave. I'm already gone.”

Clark stumbled around the ghost leaving loots of space between them and started running to the exit. Freezing was way better than being with a ghost.

“Wait Kal-El. Kal-El. Clark! WAIT!”  
  


And Clark stopped when he heard his name and looked back to the figure glad about the space between them.

  
“Clark listen to me – you have forgotten, but your name is Kal-El of Krypton. I'm your father Jor-El of Krypton. I died with the rest of the population when Krypton exploded. You was sent to earth as a baby to save your live. This is only record of my mind to help and guide you.”

“You must admit that is really hard to believe, I'm sure I'm human. And all of this is only in my mind. But you’re here to guide me, right? So you can get me back to Bruce? Bruce Wayne, he is my husband.”  
  


“Yes I could indeed show you the way to Bruce, or Batman, as he is known to most people. But he is not your husband. Stop, let me explain.”   
  
Jor-El stopped all of Clark's protest by rising his hands in a soothing gesture.

  
“To answer your questions, I must first tell you about yourself. The solar radiation of this planet reacts with your Kryptonian biology to generate enormous energy. The short version of it is the yellow sun gives you super powers. Just believe me for now and ask questions later.”  
  
 _How did Jor-El always know when Clark wanted to talk? Maybe he really was Clark's father?_ But he already had a Pa even if he was dead.

“After the death of your adoptive father you came to Metropolis and started to use these powers to protect the city. You work together with lots of other heroes and formed the Justice League to act against threats which could destroy earth. Batman, or Bruce, is one of the founders of the League. You are colleges and friends but not married.”  
  
This broke Clark's heart. _What kind of joke was this?_ He had just lost Bruce and now his supposed father in this dream told him he was not really married to Bruce. Clark couldn’t believe it.

  
“A few weeks ago you came here on your birthday and found a package addressed to you. Believing it was from the League you opened it. Inside was a flower which attached itself to you. Since then you have been standing here. The flower had been a plot by a being called Mongul to take over Earth. He trapped you with the Black Mercy, the flower, and got rid of one of the League’s biggest assets. Because of this, the League has been fighting Mongul the past few weeks to stop him, but the fight is at a standstill with no one winning ground.”  
  


“But why would they just leave me here?”  
  


_Why would Bruce not come to save him?_

“They tried, especially Batman, but nothing could wake you up and they had to leave at some point to join the fight. According to Batman's data the Black Mercy traps its victims in their most wanted dreams, showing them a world they desire so they don't want to wake up. I'm sorry for prying in your life, but seeing you were married to Bruce in this world and don't remember being Superman, I would say your dream is a peaceful life with Bruce.”  
  
“But it was only a dream? And not real? So I'm not married to Bruce? And Bruce doesn't really love me?”

Clark's voice got quieter and quieter while he spoke. Everything was spinning. _So this he thought was a dream was reality. And the reality he had lived in for...all his life was the dream?_ That couldn’t be right _. He would have noticed. But he had, hadn't he?_ _Why else had he seen Bruce acting so strange and telling him to wake up?_ In reality it had all been Clark's subconscious trying to wake him from his imprisonment.

  
“I'm sorry for your loss Kal-El, but sadly all of it has been nothing but an enemy's scheme. None of these memories are real. Maybe being exposed to the Black Mercy for so long has affected your memory. Or maybe you just don't want to remember because you prefer the dream over reality, and now you are blocking your own memories. But you have to try. Mongul is still out there and if you want a chance to win against him you have to remember. Most of the League had already been taken down when Bruce had to go and they are resting and healing at the moment. Do it for Bruce. He is still out there fighting, probably by himself, and he has no chance of winning on his own.”

_How could have all of this been a dream?_ It had felt so real. His whole life couldn't just be a lie. Bruce couldn’t be a lie. All the time they spent together, all the mornings they spent lying in bed beside each other just enjoying the sunlight, the shared meals and the cuddling on the coach – this was Clark's life. It couldn't just be gone.

Bruce might be dead in the dream, but he would always have the memories of their time together. The bond they shared and the love. In this reality Bruce might be alive, but there was nothing between them. They work together but it was work. And friends could mean anything. Diana was a friend. A really good one. But Bibbo Bibbowski was also a friend and they didn't spent as much time together as he would like to spend with Bruce. _What if Bruce was a friend like this?_

Even being so close to Bruce as he was with Diana was not enough. After living together and wanting to be together in every waking moment and in sleep, it would not be enough. He wanted Bruce at his side. Not only as a friend. But this was nothing he could have here.

This was like choosing between pest and cholera. He would either have Bruce beside him, but as a friend and would always long for more, or he would lose Bruce after admitting his feelings – have the heartbreak for the rest of his life but no more longing.

Clark knew it would never work out between them. He may have won Bruce's love once before, but only because it had been a dream. Bruce would never fall for him in real life. This was the reason why it was a dream. Dream were unrealistic. It was part of their essence. _And why would a man like Bruce fall for Clark?_ He was charming, smart, kind, and a real hero risking his live without powers, strong enough to bring the whole League down if he had to, but would never exploit this power.

But the biggest problem was Bruce was a paranoid arse and would withdraw to protect himself the moment someone tried to get close. It had taken a long time of working together to make him open up the slightest bit, but Diana was still way closer to Bruce than Clark. The moment Clark would get between Bruce and the mission, Batman would cut him out of his life.

The worst part was Bruce had not liked him at first. And even now he was still harder on Clark than on the rest of the League. He always had the hardest criticisms for Clark, always chewed Clark out first after a fight, took the responsibility from him, and sent him home how he pleased. He kept taps on Clark's private life like the control freak Bruce was. He bought the Planet, Clark's shitty apartment building, and even tried to meddle with the affairs in Kansas. _Was Kryptonite not enough? Did he want power over everything in Clark's life?_

And in return Clark got nothing. He was still not allowed in Gotham unless invited first, never knew what was going on in Bruce's life besides what appeared in the tabloids, and whenever he asked about anything he got turned away.

_What should he do? Fall on his knees and beg to be let in Bruce's life a bit more?_ Because if it would help Clark was not above such an act, but this would only lose the last bit of respect Bruce still had for him.

…

...oh. OH! He remembered. He remembered about Batman. And Superman. And so much more. He could really not say if it was everything but who could really say they know what they didn't remember.

“It came back. Everything just came back. Now I know why you were so surprised about Bruce. It could never happen.”

“Don't say never so easily. But it is good remember. Now I would really love to discuss your love life further, but I think you have better things to do right now. Like saving your not-husband.”  
  


“Bruce! I need to save Bruce. I wasted so much time.”

Superman stormed out of the fortress of solitude, cape swayed behind him. The door swung wide open under the pressure of his hands. Then without closing them Superman shot up into the sky. He just hung there close to exiting the atmosphere and listened. Listened to sounds from all around the world, searching. He knew Bruce's heartbeat. He had listened to it all the time they had fallen asleep together, or rather had secretly listened to every time he had fallen asleep alone is his small lonely apartment.

But all this helped him now to find Bruce's heartbeat in seconds. And it didn't sound good. Normally it was steady, calm and slow. No matter how much Bruce ran around and fought it never speed up. At the start, when Clark didn't really know he was already head over heels for Bruce, he had listened to it while the other man was on patrol. To make sure he was okay. Was safe. Only to find out the steady beat didn't even significantly change while fighting. And when Bruce came to meeting with a broken arm, vehemently pretending it wasn't broken, Clark knew monitoring Bruce's heartbeat was useless – it had been even more steady than usual the last night.  
  
So now when Bruce's heartbeat fluttered and jumped, Clark knew something was terribly wrong. And he was worried. His own heartbeat had sped up and now almost matched Bruce's.

  
He shot in Bruce's direction breaking the speed barrier to arrive there in record time.

He ended up on the outskirts of Gotham – not close enough to cause real danger for the citizens, but close enough to be a point of concern. There was only the stream of the Gotham river between Mongul and the destruction of Gotham. And Batman.

Batman, who was standing with his back to the city and trying to hold his ground, to buy some time for some form of back up to arrive.   
  
There was no chance he could beat Mongul by himself. Not even if he weren't as injured as he was. There was blood. So much blood. And Superman didn't need to have X-Ray vision to see Batman's arm was broken. It was a wonder the Bat was even standing, never mind holding Mongul back.

Fondness spiked in Clark's chest for Bruce's bravery but got crushed by worry in an instant. Bruce was in danger.

Superman's fist connected with Mongul when he dove down from the sky like an avenging angel and collided with his enemy. The force pushed Mongul to the ground and on his back, but Superman didn't leave him any breathing room and followed him to the ground, kneeling on top of him and holding him down with his strength.

  
“NOOO! THIS CAN NOT BE! YOU WERE TAKEN CARE OF!”

Superman just grunted. He didn't feel like talking. He rather wanted to bury his fist deep inside Mongul’s face. Over and over again.

  
The bastard had dared to touch HIS Bat. And he had hurt him. He needed to pay for this. And Superman would make it hurt. He would make sure the monster never ever got the chance to get close to Batman again. He wouldn't even think about it. The name alone would spike fear in him and make him remember Superman's rage.

Over and over Superman smashed his fist against the arms raised in a panicked attempt to protect his face. But Superman didn't stop – he just continued on and on. One hit after another till suddenly Mongul shifted and forced up a powerful knee, knocking at Superman's back and making him stumble forward and off his foe.

Superman turned around to face Mongul again but his opponent had used his chance and was already on his feet throwing a punch at Superman. Superman didn't even try to block it and just took the hit. He used Mongul’s proximity to grab his arm and twist it until he could hear a cracking sound and a loud pained scream.

But it was not enough. Far from enough to cool Superman's rage. His eyes blazing a dangerous crimson was the only warning Mongul got.

“Burn.”

Lasers hit Mongul in the chest, and even though he mostly blocked them with his healthy arm he still got thrown back into the remains of a wall of an abandoned building. His arm was a mess of burns and blood.

Superman's eyes were still glowing red when he walked over to Mongul. He didn't hurry. He knew there was no escaping, no running or hiding. He would find him no matter where he went. For what he had done to Bruce. His husband. His lover. The person who had always been there for him. For whom Clark's heart bled at the thought of holding him in his arms and feeling the warmth.

  
A thing he no longer had the privilege of doing. A thing he would never know he craved like this if Mongul hadn't shown it to him. You couldn’t miss what you don't know, but Clark knew now. And he missed. Missed really badly. Showing someone his dearest dream only to take it away again was the cruelest thing you could do to a person. It may not hurt the body, but it broke Clark's heart and tainted his soul.

Clark didn't know how he could survive longing every day for something which was not his – was never meant to be his. And all of this because of Mongul. He would never forget what had been done to him, nor the harm Bruce had to endure.

He looked over to where Bruce was leaning heavily against some rubble holding his bleeding side. And Clark couldn’t help but snarl and show his teeth when he saw the blood running through Bruce's fingers. His head whipped to Mongul and he strode forward.

He would end him for hurting the person dearest to Superman. He would bleed, scream, and cry till his eyes glaze over and his heartbeat ceased. And Superman would enjoy it. Every little second of it.

There was a strange rhythm, almost a melody, to the dull sound his fist made when it collided with flesh. It was kind of peaceful. Calming. And Superman let himself be lulled by the sound in a trance like condition. Just focusing on the sound and tuning everything else out.

“-rk! CLARK! CLARK!!!”

A warmth pressed against his back. His waist was wet and sticky. When he looked down there were arms encircling him from behind trying to hold him back. They smeared red blood all over the front of his suit. Clark turned his head slowly and looked right in Bruce's panicked eyes. He was pale and his hair mushed from the cowl he had pushed from it.

_Why was Bruce stopping him?_ He was just protecting him from future harm. Clark looked down at his own hands. They were coated in a thick layer of blood dripping down slowly. Under him laid Mongul in a bloody pool. Limbs bent, features almost unrecognizable, and covered in blood.

So much blood. It was everywhere. Just red red red.

But Mongul was still breathing. There was a slight rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive. Clark hadn't killed him yet. OH RAO. He had almost killed. If Bruce hadn't stopped him he would...

  
Clark felt sick. He stumbled back away from what he had done, pushing Bruce back in the process when he was still clinging to Clark's back. He instantly turned and held on to Bruce to stop him from falling over. His hand found Bruce's still bleeding side and instantly put his hand over the deep wound to stop the bleeding.

He had forced Bruce to act and it had aggravated his wound. Clark looked at Bruce with wide horrified eyes. He had almost taken a life. He had always wanted to do the right thing, but now he was changed. All it took to make him almost break his belief was to take a dream from him. No, he was already broken, and Bruce was the only thing holding him together right now. He had become so weak.

His train of thought got interrupted when Bruce went limp in his arms. Clark frantically checked for a heartbeat and he could still hear the sound of it.

  
He lifted Bruce in his arms and wrapped him in his cape to give him a bit of safety. He was careful when he rose in the sky and flew in the direction of Gotham. He didn't want to make Bruce's injuries any worse. He found a boom-tube to the watchtower hidden in an old telephone booth and instantly beamed them up.

  
The fortress was out of question, even with the advanced medical equipment there. Bruce would not survive the flight. The cave had not really been an option, since Clark didn't know how to operate the med-bay there, and he had no room for mistakes.

When he arrived at the watchtower and stormed in the med-bay, he was surrounded by the rest of the League in various states of injury. But he paid them no mind and just strode off to a free bed and hooked Bruce up to the machines. For the next hour he continued to work to stabilize Bruce's condition.

When he had finally done all he could, he sank down in the chair next to the bed. His hands were shaking and his whole body trembled. Now with the adrenaline fading, all of it came crashing down on him. How he had almost crossed the line. How he had almost lost Bruce. Could still lose Bruce. And worst of all, the realization that he had lost his dream forever and was now forced to live in this reality.

  
He flinched when a hand landed on his shoulder and looked up into Barry's worried eyes.  
  
“Hey Clark, it's good to have you back. We were all worried about you. You don't look so good, should I check you over?”

Clark just shook his head, not trusting his voice to work just yet. Thankfully Barry just nodded and turned to leave.  
  
This left Clark alone again with his dark thoughts and he instantly wished Barry was still here. But he didn't deserve someone to lighten his mind. Not after what he had almost done. Not after what he actually did. Rao, he had just left Mongul there.  
  
“...B-barry?”

His voice was weak and shaking when he called out for the speedster, but it was still there and Barry came back fast, even if not with super speed.   
  
“Hey what’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“I-I just left him there. I...I was so angry...Bruce and the blood and I couldn't...B-barry I beat him...I...I almost...almost killed him. And then...then I just left.”  
  
He found himself in a hug and Barry's hands slowly stroking his back.  
  
“Shh it's okay. We will go look for him. It's not your fault. You panicked. Everything will be okay. Just take a shower and rest. I will talk to you when I'm back.”  
  


Then Barry was gone, calling out for someone to help him and open the log to the boom tubes to find Mongul.

Clark sagged with this taken care of, even though his actions still weighed heavy on his conscience.

He didn't shower. He just sat at Bruce's side, covered in blood, waiting for the man to get better. He needed Bruce to be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

Clark woke up in terror, the nightmare still fresh on his mind. It had been a weird dream full of a strange castle, flying, fighting, and blood. So much blood. And none of it had been Clark's, but he had been the cause of it, and some of it had been Bruce's.

Clark lunged forward and grabbed Bruce's hand, only calming down a bit when he felt the pulse under his fingertips. Seeing Bruce laying so motionless before him made his heart ache. He just wanted him to be safe and happy and not hurt like this - the wound had looked bad and Bruce's heart had even stopped.

Clark was so glad Bruce was still alive and with him. He pressed a soft kiss on the back of Bruce's limp hand and carefully held it between his own but stopped when he didn't see the ring or any marking of it.

Then it hit him all over again. It had not been a nightmare. It was reality. Clark being happy had been the dream. A beautiful dream but nothing else. Bruce was no longer his husband. Had in fact never been his husband. He had no right to press kisses on Bruce's cold skin and wish him better.

He felt like crying, and when he realized this meant all the blood he caused was also real he could no longer hold back the tears. He curled into himself on the chair and brought his knees up to his chest to hide his face and just cry.

He couldn't let go of Bruce's hand even if it was wrong, but if he let go it would feel like he finally lost Bruce completely.

He just continued sitting there and watching, always having an eye on the countless monitors connected to Bruce and focused on the beating of Bruce's heart. He would watch over him. He would make sure he would be okay.

When the curtain to their little private space opened he looked up with sad eyes to look at Diana. She looked tired and her arm was in a sling, but she stood proud. When her eyes landed on the connected hands he let go and cradled his hand at his stomach to hide it, but she kept frowning at him.  
  
He and Bruce had never been too close to each other, a result of Bruce pushing him away every time, and were not the best of friends, yet they were members of the same team. They had worked together and saved each other’s lives. She had no reason to be so judging when he was the only one staying here making sure Bruce was okay.

“We found Mongul. You got him real bad, but he will pull through. Lantern will get him to space prison when he is stable for transportation.”

Her voice sounded sullen. _Did she judge him for his actions?_ _Was she angry at him for almost crossing the line?_ But she was an Amazon. A warrior. She was not above extensive violence, even if she held back since she stepped into the land of men.

Her eyes soften a bit when she looked at Clark's and he started fidgeting under her stare. Her next words were spoken much softer.

“Take a shower.”  
  


“But what if...”

  
“I will watch. Go. You look gross.”  
  


And with that Clark took off to take a shower and get the blood off. All the members of the League he met on the way sent him strange looks, their gazes burning into his back but never making eye contact. They were avoiding him. He could understand. He had always been the calm one. The merciful one. Holding back to do what's right. But now they had seen what he was capable of. What he would do once he was broken. And Mongul had broken him really good.

So their averted their eyes. Pretending not to see the monster before them. All of them except Diana. Diana who had seen gods and monsters in her lifetime and didn't judge Clark's actions. He was just a kid compared to her failing to cope with the situation. To her his only fault was falling for the trap in the first place.

She was wrong. If Clark was stronger he would be able to cope with this.

Even Barry averted his gaze and it hurt. Clark could still feel the warmth of his hug and now the other man couldn't even look him in the eyes. The worried glazes he felt when he turned away from Barry didn't make it better. It was obvious the young man wanted to talk to him but didn't know how and what to say. And when he finally decided what to say and Clark could hear him taking a deep breath Hal shushed him.

“Barry! Don't. Give him some time.”

The words were silent but Clark could still make them out as Hal dragged Barry away. Apparently after what he had done to Mongul the offer to talk was no longer on the table. And this when Clark desperately needed someone to talk. To get what had happened to him of the chest. What he had lost when the Black Mercy feel from his chest.

The water in the shower was hot, almost boiling, but Clark didn't feel it. Damn invulnerability, when all he wanted was to feel something to feel less numb inside. Sure He was worried, _very_ worried, but it was only nibbling on the edge of the big black nothingness which was his soul. The water flowed down pink, rinsing away the traces of what he had done, but even with the tracks gone he would never forget.

He had no spare suit in his locker so he switched to normal clothes. It didn't bother him. He was too used to them by now. After all it was what he had worn a lifetime.

…No it hadn't been a life time.

Clark knew he had only been asleep a few weeks. No matter how real it had felt he was aware it had only been a dream. And he told himself this over and over again.

But he just couldn't accept it. It had felt like years of his life. _Real_ years of his live. And as long as he wasn't convinced completely it was fake it would stay real for him. And he would still have some piece of his life with Bruce left.

Even with the blood gone and the civilian clothes people still avoided him, still seeing the beast he had become. The even went as far as stepping out of the way or turning back into the room they were coming from just to avoid him. It bothered Clark but not as much as it should. They had not been part of his life in the years he spent dreaming. Oliver stung a bit. They had been close friends after all. He was too used to seeing him laugh and cracking jokes. Seeing him in fear was difficult.

But he could get over it. The only person that really mattered was still laying in the med-bay fighting to stay alive. As long as Bruce would still look at him everything would be fine. It could be anger. It would probably be anger after he nearly broke Bruce's one rule. But he could handle anger. He could handle anything as long as it wasn't coldness and distance.

He stepped back into the bay and walked up to the curtain. When he pushed it to the side he looked at the members of the whole Bat family all assembled in the small space around Bruce's bed.   
  
The family Bruce never had in his dream. The family Clark didn't want him to have. Because they would never approve of him. Because they would stand between them. Bruce would never choose someone his family didn't want. He loved them way too much for it. And all of their eyes screamed judgment and distrust.

“Ah, Superman. Thank you for saving Master Bruce and staying by his side while he was alone. But now his family is here so if you would excuse us, we would like some privacy and Master Bruce needs all the rest he can get.”

“...Y-yes I understand Mister Pennyworth. E-excuse me for intruding.”  
  


And Clark left. He really didn't want to but he had no other option. This was Bruce's family. The people he had chosen and wanted at his side. Not Clark. He was not wanted here.

It was so frustrating. He felt like he should’ve a right to be here. He had been married to Bruce. Had loved him with all his heart. But no one knew because it hadn't been real. And Bruce didn't love him.   
  
So he had to go. He couldn't stay at the watchtower anymore with all the people there, so he went to the only person he could trust to understand. He went to Kansas to his mother. She was the person closest to him since Lois and he broke it off 3 years ago. After he had told her he was Superman.

She had ended it because she wanted something normal. Some _one_ normal. And Clark hadn't fought for her. He could have. He should’ve if he still loved her back then, but by then he had already meet Bruce. Not Batman nor Brucie. He had gotten glimpses of the real Bruce hiding behind the mask and it had been enough for Clark. He had started to fall for him. Not that he had already know back then.

But every time he wanted to go to Lois and fight for her Bruce had come up. He had thought of him and forgotten about it until it was too late. And he had been sad about it, but he always felt better again when he got a small glimpse of Bruce.

“Hello Ma. I need to talk to you.”  
  


He felt the warm embrace of his mother's arms and sunk into it. And then he cried. Cried for Bruce and all the love that had never been between them. That would never be between them.

  
And then he told her told her everything. And she just held him while he spoke and cried. Her hands never stopped drawing circles on his back.

~ ~ ~

Clark stayed in Kansas for some days. _Where else should he go?_ He had already missed a lot of work so a few more days wouldn't matter. If he even still had the job. After vanishing unannounced it was more likely he was already fired.

Lois and he weren’t really that close anymore. Although they were still friends, Lois just wanted Clark, not Superman. And since this problem was Superman’s he just didn't know if she even wanted to hear it.

So when Lois finally called, most likely after getting a call from his ma that he was back, he got a lot of screaming for just dropping from the radar for so long. But when she asked what happened he deflected. When she continued to ask questions he just said it was a Superman thing, and when even that didn’t deter her he just ended the call. He didn't want to talk about it with Lois. She would not understand it.

_And what could she do?_ She couldn’t help him.   
  
Just like his mother could do nothing except talk and comfort him. And it felt good to talk to someone about it but it didn't change the situation: Bruce had never happened and the League still avoided him.

Mostly. He sometimes could hear Barry's fast footsteps in the distance but the man always thought better of it. And Clark didn't know if he should be touched that Barry it least tried to overcome his fear of Clark and come talking or angry for always getting his hopes only to be disappointed.

But even if Barry came to his mother's doorsteps Clark didn't know if he would be ready to talk. He didn't really want to face anyone. They League had mostly made clear where they stood the last time he was up the watchtower, and nobody had bothered to keep him in the loop of what had happened with Mongul or Bruce. No phone calls, emails, messages, or visits. They didn't care.   
  
Even though Diana had still talked to him in the med-bay, that didn't mean she would go out of her way to keep him up to date. After the tantrum he had thrown it was likely she thought he wasn't worth the effort she would have to put into him. She needed warriors not children. Or maybe after she had seen him with Bruce she rethought her decision because Clark must be weird to be so close with Bruce all of a sudden.

And Bruce. Bruce was gone...forever. Clark knew the man was still alive by listening to his heartbeat. But there was always someone with him and his family had made sure he knew that they didn’t want him there. And even if they would let him, the rest of the League probably though he was too dangerous to be near an invalid.

And this destroyed Clark's last chance to get close to Bruce one more time. The moment he woke up and was informed about Clark's actions it was over. When he knew how close Clark was to breaking his one rule he would never want to see Clark again. If winning Bruce's heart had been an unlikely occurrence before, after all Clark had done now it was utterly impossible.

So Clark stayed away to spare himself the heartbreak. He would get his dismissal from the League soon enough. No reason to rush things by showing his face and collecting it person. _Maybe Bruce would throw him out?_ It would give him a chance to see the man one last time.

~ ~ ~

Then Diana called one day after Bruce woke up. Clark knew. He had heard his heartbeat shudder and speed up when he regained conscious and was already halfway up to the watchtower in the next second. But then he remembered he was not allowed to be there. Not wished to be there. So he flew into space and stayed there for a few hours. Crying.

The light of earth under him, despite being blurry, had been beautiful and he wished he could share it with Bruce. Everything was so small from up here but still so important. And even up here he could hear Bruce. His heart, the rumbling of his voice, his breathing.

It took a lot of effort to sink down to earth again instead of staying up there. Untouchable and just listening.

The call was not really a surprise. With Bruce awake and mostly healed, thanks to the alien technology Lantern had installed in the med-bay. It had restored Bruce's body while he was unconscious, so he could just resume his duties as if nothing had happened. And with this the the technicalities should be over with. No more waiting. They would have a meeting and vote Clark out. Easy as that.

_Because what else would the League do when one of their own nearly crossed the line?_ Clark was still sad it was not Bruce delivering the message, but Diana had been the one willing to talk to him and she was a friend. He could live with her being the one telling him to pack his bags.

“Hello Kal. How are you?”

Dina's voice was soft and caring, but Clark didn't especially feel like being handled softly right now.

  
“Fine.”  
  


He didn't want to do small talk. He just wanted to get it over with. It would not be any less painful to lose his friends and team just because Diana was breaking the news softly to him. He wanted to put it behind as quickly as possible. If it was over he could curl up somewhere and cry himself to exhaustion without having to think anymore.

“I don't need my Lasso of Truth to know you are lying, and I'm not above coming over and making you admit it.”  
  


“It's nothing.”  
  
“Kal whatever happened, it is burdening you, so it is not nothing. Just tell me so I can help. I'm worried about you.”

“I-I don't wanna talk about it.”  
  


He hated how broken his voice sounded. And he could understand her. He himself had been worried over his friends more than once and had felt helpless when they hadn't told him what was wrong. He could lessen her worries by telling her.

But discussing it again would bring it up again. Make it feel more real. And that was the exact opposite of what Clark wanted, needed, right now. He just wanted to hide in his good memories of Bruce with no one judging him for being weak. For being brought to his knees by a simple illusion. He knew Diana would tell him to forget it because it was not real. She wanted what was best for his and not for him to be caught up in the past.

  
“You are my comrade. Comrades trust each other. Otherwise they couldn’t fight side by side. So trust me and tell me what is going on. I will not just leave you on your own.”  
  
“STOP BOTHERING ME!”

Finally silence. But Clark didn't feel any better. In fact he felt even worse after taking his frustration out on Diana. She didn't deserve it. She hadn't filled his heart full of love and ripped it out when he was the most vulnerable. She hadn't avoided him like the rest of the League had. She only wanted to help. She just couldn't. No one could. And Clark didn't want to get hurt trying. If he didn't try he couldn’t be disappointment. _Why should he even bother?_ The outcome was already clear, and like Bruce always said, think before acting to avoid wasting time and energy.

  
“...s-sorry. That was... I'm sorry Diana. I-I just don't wanna talk. It is nothing I want to speak about. Still, I should not have... W-Why did you call Diana?”  
  


He tried to switch the topic hoping Diana would go with it and not just hang up leaving him on his own. There was some more silence from the other side and Clark thought he had really messed up even this. Had broken one of the last few friendships he still had. He was on a real streak of making himself a loner.

“I-I just wanted to tell you Bruce woke up. It seemed important to you. I was surprised you didn't visit...”  
  


It didn't sounded like an accusation. More like she really didn't know why he hadn't been there.

“I-I didn't think I should be there...a-after all...the family was there and I...”  
  
Clark trailed off. _How could he tell her they didn't want him there, neither Bruce's family nor the rest of the League, without sounding like a whinny brat?_

“...I just didn't belong up there.”  
  
And with this he didn't only mean Bruce's bedside but the whole League. Diana, being who she was, understood.  
  
“Nonsense. You are always welcome here in the League – that will never change. And even if Bruce rarely shows it, he is your friend. He was worried when he woke up and didn't see you. I had to forcefully drag him back to bed to stop him from coming after you when he should still be resting.”

  
Clark just grunted, not sure what he should think. He hadn't felt particularly welcomed by the other members of the League, and even if Diana wanted him there and spoke up for him, it would only hurt to be avoided again. Clark had no illusions that they would be anything but reluctantly accepting him because of Diana insisting on it. Maybe Barry would come around and be glad to see him again. But the rest...no chance.

Bruce was a completely different matter. Clark didn't know if he should cry or run away in fear. Bruce was either worried about him because he had lost his damn mind in a panic, or he was angry at Clark for nearly breaking his rule. Bruce had been there to stop him. He knew how Clark had toed the line.

  
“So I talked to Bruce and the rest of the main members and we were wondering when you were coming back. We understand that after all that’s happened you need some space, but we want you back with us as soon as you can. Bruce and I have used the time since he woke up to make plans to prevent attacks from people like Mongul. It would be easier with you participating in setting everything up, but if you need more time Bruce came up with a way to make up for your absence.”

So Bruce had found a way for the League could go on without him if necessary. Even if Diana wanted him back there, they surely don't need him. Not with a great strategist like Bruce there to make up for Clark's power with plans. It was kinda comforting he didn't have responsibility tying him down anymore.

Diana wanted him back there. They were similar and she enjoyed having him around. But Clark couldn't. The moment he saw Bruce he would not be able to hold back any longer. He already missed him so much as it was. Seeing him but not being able to touch him, to tell him how much he was loved and to stare at him all day, it would be torture.

  
He couldn't help but be a bit jealous of Diana for being able to be so close to Bruce and talk to him. Rationally he knew it was foolish – Diana was not interested. They were all nothing but children in her eyes, and she still was faithful to the man who had stolen her heart all those years ago, but he just couldn't help but feel anyone else was undeserving of Bruce. Even if he was no better than them. But he wanted all of Bruce's attention for himself. To monopolize Bruce and snap at everyone else who got too close.

“I think I still need some time. I-it was so much. Felt like a lifetime.”  
  
And wasn't this true. It had been a lifetime. A whole life lived in several weeks but nevertheless a whole lifetime. A life filled with love.

“Okay. Take all the time you need, but please Clark, come back to us. If you need anything just call. I will always be there for you.”

“Thanks Diana. You are a real friend.”

Clark ended the call. He felt exhausted and his emotions were running high. It was all too much – way too much. His mind was in chaos while he tried to make out what was real and what was not, and more importantly what answer he really wanted. He needed some time. Lots of time away from anyone. Especially Bruce, even if he missed him badly. But he couldn’t face him. Not yet.   
  
He kissed his mother on the cheek when he left. Mumbling soft words of love, promising to be back as soon as he could. And she let him leave. She knew he needed some time alone, and she loved him, so despite her worry she let him go to try and heal. Even if all she really wanted was to keep him here tucked away from anything and protect him. A mother’s love was endless no matter if in a dream or reality.

He went to the place where all of this had started. Where no one would find him. Were he was safe.

People knew he had a castle in the arctic but no one knew where. If you satisfy people’s curiosity they stop asking questions, even if you haven’t really told them anything. So no one really know where the fortress was or how it looked or if he really lived there. Only that it existed. And the League only had the same information as the rest of the population.

Not that Clark didn't trust them, but he hadn't deemed it necessary for them to know. They had his real address if they needed anything and Clark was rarely at the fortress at all. If he really was there, it was usually for what the name implied. Solitude. And it was way easier to stay all by himself if no one knew his private sulking ground.

He flew slower than he could, staying closer to the ground so he would not show up on some radars. God knows Bruce had his eyes and ears everywhere. He stuck to the shadows and avoided people and cities. He almost felt like Batman sneaking around like this. But he wasn't Superman at the moment, and Clark Kent had no motivation to explain why he flew to the arctic without a plane.

And it was important not to be tracked. Even if the Diana promised him time, there was only so long she could hold the League off before they came to demand answers or blame him. It was better to be sure he could be alone.

He finally reached the fortress nestled away in the white snow hidden away from the world. Not noticeable if you weren't explicitly searching for it. This was why no government or villains had found it so far. And Lex had tried. After all, it would be a great opportunity to hurt Superman if you found his base. The fool had no idea Clark was living in Metropolis right under his nose and not the Arctic.

The doors where still open from the time he had rushed out to save Bruce. It seemed like so long ago. So much had happened since. But the snow had only piled inside a bit. Clark cleaned it up and closed the door, feeling much safer this way. The doors where heavy and the mechanism to open it without superstrength was well hidden. He was safe here.

  
In this knowledge he broke down. He curled up against Jor-El’s storage unit but didn’t activate it. He wanted to be alone. His father couldn’t ease the pain. And painful it was. He had so much hurt and so little time to bury it, and disposing of it along with all the love, longing, and wishes was his only option.

He couldn’t face Bruce as long as he still had this love and wanted nothing else than to get close, protect him, hug him, and press soft kisses to the side of his face. Clark couldn’t let Bruce continue to be his whole world. Not when Bruce wanted nothing from him beside a working relationship and being a friend on a good day.

Clark had to be what Bruce wanted if he didn't want to lose him completely, so he had to let go, because the hurt was killing him and he could barely stand it.

His composure nearly slipped away. If he had to face Bruce with all this emotion Clark knew he would break. He would not be able to come back from it. Even if it went against everything, he knew he had to bury his wishes like this.  
  
And his wish was to get back. Back to his Bruce, the man he still loved. Would forever love no matter what and who he would be never able to let go of. He knew he was only a fiction of Clark's imagination but he couldn't help but love and miss. He had nothing else left.

  
It was a thought born of him being starved for love and companionship. To be touched, to talk to someone. To lay his heart open. _How long had it been since someone beside his mother had hugged him?_

And yes Barry had hugged him at the watchtower but only because he hadn't known the whole truth. Now he couldn't even talk to Clark so that hardly counted

There had been the time when Bruce had given him that awkward half hug half pat on the shoulder after Lois had broken up with him. It had been such a long time ago.

He knew it was a problem. Even if he was Kryptonian he was raised to be human, and humanity lived for contact. Even Bruce indulged in it from time to time with his kids. Babies could die if they didn't have enough love, even if all their other needs where taken care of.

And here was Clark not fulfilling this basic need. _But what choice did he have?_ He couldn't have this from someone he didn't know. For him emotions played a big part. Contact with a stranger would mean nothing. It would only reinforce the pain knowing he could have companionship with no one that really mattered.

He couldn't just speak up. Demanding contact and being taken care of felt wrong. They would freak out. And if he explained it to them they would pity him, and it would be worse than being alone if they bent to his wishes to keep Superman going but didn't really mean it.  
  
In the end it always came down to Superman. People looked up to him and tried to get closer but no one cared for Clark –for what laid inside. When people did find out who stood behind Superman, they lost interest. People always asked Superman for advice and cared for him and his feelings, but no one cared for Clark. No one was ever there when he wanted someone to take away his terror, to shush his worries, to hold his hand when he feared, to kiss away the pain. When he screamed for attention and saving he was met with silence. No one was ever there to help Clark when he was drowning.   
  
So Clark had lost hope and had stopped shouting for help. He just let himself sink and watched the light shining into the water numbly. Then Bruce had been there pulling him up a bit with a small gesture or a friendly word. Sometimes it was enough when Bruce was just not so cold and dismissive to get Clark closer to the surface again.   
  
Bruce was his light shining inside the muddy water, guiding him back to the surface whenever he lost it. Until he wasn't anymore. In the past few weeks before the incident with the flower Bruce had gotten colder. It was almost as bad as when he and Bruce had first met, and Clark couldn't understand why.

He hadn't done anything to upset Bruce – hadn't dared to in a long time, too afraid to lose him. He had not understand and it had driven him insane. He couldn’t fix it when he did not know what needed fixing. And every time it happened, he had been pulled down deeper, and it had gotten harder and harder to see the light.

The final push had been when he cornered Bruce for a talk. In retrospect not a good decision, but he had been desperate, and without knowing it Bruce had crushed Clark's heart.

“ _Superman_ , we are not friends. I tolerate you because you can be useful, but I don't want you pestering me any more. If you continue to act so foolishly I will remove you from my life completely, understand?”

  
And Clark had only nodded, too dazed to speak. It had been his birthday. He had just wanted to right the wrongs so he could spend some of the day with Bruce. Because Bruce mattered. But instead he had made it worse.

After the talk he fled to the Fortress to cry, but when he found the colorful wrapped box he’d been delighted. He hadn't thought anyone would remember his birthday, seeing that no one at the watchtower had paid him too much attention or congratulated him. They had all been busy recovering from their last big indecent and protecting the world. Seeing that someone had actually gone to the lengths of finding his fortress only to deliver a present had made him smile through the tears he was shedding for Bruce. Because someone had cared for him. And as long as he was not alone he could go on – could survive Bruce's crudity and try to save their friendship later.  
  
But when he had opened the box only a flower had flung itself at him, clearly attacking, but he had felt no panic, only betrayal. Because none of his friends cared for him enough to remember Clark's birthday, yet some enemy had found out about the date. The fact that someone like that gave him a present – showing Clark more care than all of his supposed friends did – had been the final straw.

The surface had slipped away and there had been nothing but darkness all around him while he got dragged deeper and deeper into the water.

He could have moved out of the way. He had super speed after all, but he hadn't wanted to. _Why should he bother?_ At least someone had put some thought into this and it would be rude to not appreciate his only gift besides the one from his mom.   
  
So he had stood there when the Black Mercy latched onto his chest, and when it read his mind to come up with a dream, his own personal prison he would not even wish to escape from, he hadn't been able to help himself. He projected all his sadness and loneliness at it. And it had done its job perfectly.

It had come up with a world without Superman suppressing Clark, with no crime to render Batman cold. Clark was just a normal man getting what he had wished for so badly – someone who cared. Not only cared but loved, and Clark had loved right back. _How couldn't he have with this being everything he had ever wanted?_

It had been so perfect. So wonderful. Until he had woken up, only to see how different from reality it had been. That actually he could never really have someone like this because Clark was not meant to be loved. Not from Bruce and not from anybody else.

The moment he wanted to find happiness with anyone else, Bruce would be there, standing in their kitchen, judging him for trying to settle for someone else. He would lurk around their bed in disapproval until Clark gave up and returned to his life of self-pity and all the wonderful memories of a Bruce he never really had.

Clark punched the floor, screaming in frustration. _What had he ever done to deserve this?_ _Hadn't he always tried to do the right thing? Why did he have to suffer like this?_  
  
And then his gaze fell to the black clump of flower on the floor. Its darkness was such a strong contrast to the shining white and colors he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before, though he supposed his eyes had been filled with tears at the time. Then he had an idea

Hopefully it wasn't completely dead. It just couldn't be dead. Clark needed it.

Clark got up on shaky legs and staggered over to the withered plant, picking it up tenderly with shaking hands, like an addict before his next shot. And this he was. Addicted to love.

He didn't want to get over the dream. He’d never wanted to – it had just been what people would have expected him to do. But he had no way of coping with reality. Dreaming had been the happiest time he had in years. He just wanted to get back there. Continue his life with Bruce and be satisfied. No one would know. He would be here, not being dead but not being alive, but he would still live the best life he ever had.

His mother would miss him, but she loved him and wanted what was best for him, and this was what he needed. What he wanted. She would understand when he didn't come back. And hopefully she would forgive him. He just couldn't keep on treading water. So he sunk.

  
The plant which had hung lifeless in his fingers started to twitch and wiggle. The long roots reached in his direction and guided it closer to his chest. He closed his eyes in anticipation and felt the first tips of the roots make contact and wiggle into place so they could latch onto him.  
  
He already felt a blissful nothingness creep up onto him when the plant extracted all the negative emotion to spin a dream for him. A world just for Clark. Just him and no one else. No Superman. And he couldn't help but smile, just waiting for the plant to completely enclose him and take everything away.

And then everything came crashing back to him and pushed him under. He opened his eyes in shock and stared wide eyed at the plant before him. Most of its roots were cut and the rest was desperately wiggling at Clark without much energy, trying to latch on and save itself. Thick fluid dripped from the cuts, sapping at the plant’s energy.

He looked to his right and saw a Batarang embedded into the ice, also dripping with some greenish liquid – the same coming out of the plant.   
  
He didn't want to look to his left. He absolutely didn't. He just wanted to cuddle the plant to his chest and flee the scene. But loud steps were getting closer and closer. It had been foolish to try and hide something like the location of his hideout from Batman. Batman, perfectly cold analytic Batman knew everything.

  
“CLARK! CLARK!”  
  


When a hand touched his shoulder he flinched back out of reach and finally turned to look at Batman, but he saw Bruce. No cowl, no frown or scowl. Only an out of breath Bruce standing there with worry on his face. He was as beautiful as Clark remembered. But it couldn’t be. It had not been real, and it would never be real.

“Let go of the plant. NOW!”

  
But Clark just shook his head. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want to lose his happiness. Even if Bruce seemed so out of it. Like he cared the way Clark had always wanted him to.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Clark's voice came out soft.  
  
“What? What is it? Something wrong?”  
  
And Clark just looked down at the plant in his hand and just smiled.  
  
“It had already started. I'm already dreaming.”  
  


“Don't be absurd you are not dreaming. Now hand over that thing.”  
  
But Clark just shook his head.

  
“I'm dreaming.”  
  


“Why would you think this is a dream? The plant is right there.”  
  
“You are here.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“You wouldn't be here if this was real.”  
  
Bruce just stood there wide eyed staring at Clark, taking in his lopsided happy smile and his relaxed posture and the overall delight when he started to press the plant closer again.  
  
And Bruce just lost it. His face scrunched up into an ugly expression of terror and anger and he stormed forward, getting one hand between Clark and the plant, and threw it to the ground, squishing it with his boot. His body pressed where the roots had torn Clark's plaid shirt and left dark brush-like marks on Clark's skin. His strong arms encircled Clark, pressing him closer until Clark's head rested in the crook of Bruce's shoulder. When Clark breathed in he could smell the leather of Bruce's uniform and the faint smell of Bruce's shampoo.  
  


“This is real Clark.”  
  


“..is not.”  
  


Clark didn't knew why he was even discussing this. This was obviously a dream, but from now on this would be his reality. So he should just accept Bruce's words and allow himself to be swept away into this world. _Maybe the plant was behaving strangely, letting him know it was a dream, because it was his second time here? Or was it because Clark had wished for his reality to get better so the dream showed how his reality changed?_

“Why are you so dead set on this being fake?”  
  
“I just wanna be happy.”  
  
“And you can't be happy if this was real?”  
  
“You wouldn't be here if this was real.”  
  
“But I'm here Clark.”

  
Clark just made a grunting sound that could be interpreted as a told you so.

  
“Clark. Clark! Listen to me. This is important: you know this is no dream. You can tell. Just think about it. Use your powers and tell me this is a dream.”  
  
And Clark couldn’t help but listen. He could never help when it came to Bruce. So he listened. To all the cries of the innocent suffering, to all the death and destruction, to his mother crying into Diana's shoulder in Smallville and to Bruce's heartbeat which was faster than Clark had ever before heart it.

  
“...t-this is no dream...”  
  
“Welcome back Clark.”  
  
Bruce had a slight smile on his face, but Clark couldn’t help but start crying in pain. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to leave. _Why couldn't Bruce just let him go?_ He would be much happier if he managed to get into a dream again. W _hy would Bruce force him to stay here? Was he really hated so much?_

He tried to stagger over to what remained of the plant, even though it looked completely dead. But it couldn’t be. He could save it. He needed to save it. But the arms around him stopped him and Clark started struggling.

It was fruitless. It didn't matter that he was stronger and could break Bruce's neck without the least bit of strain. This was Bruce. Maybe not his Bruce but still Bruce. Clark could never deny Bruce or do something Bruce didn't want. So if Bruce wanted him to stay here he would. But he didn't have to like it.

His distressed struggle stopped when Bruce's finger's splayed into his hair and started massaging his scalp. A soft force pushed his face into the crook of Bruce's neck again. The other hand never left his back and continued to press him closer.

Bruce's actions confused Clark. Sure he was in distress and Bruce had caused it by denying him his wish, _but why was Bruce doing this?_ He had never been the touchy type – he barely allowed a pat on the back after they survived a dangerous situation. For him to initiate contact like this was highly unlikely. And if Clark wasn't so sure this was real he would have believed he was dreaming.   
  


“p-please...Bruce...just let me go....I-I need o-out. I-I can't...not anymore...I”  
  


“Shhh just calm down”  
  


“no...NO”  
  


“Clark. Clark! Listen to me. Calm down. Why do you wanna get back there? It is not real.”  
  


“H-how do you even know...you shouldn't.”  
  


“I researched the Black Mercy when we tried to wake you up the first time, and then you were not there when I woke up. Diana was concerned after the call. So was I. Kansas was enlightening.”  
  


“...Ma.”

“She is worried. So why Clark? Why a dream? Why hide away?”

  
“I just wanna be happy.”  
  
“And you can't be here? With all your friends and family?”  
  
“No friends... I...I will never get...not what I want.”  
  
“Shhh Clark. Listen to me. You don't need to hide. We will figure it out. Just tell me what you want.”  
  
“c-can't”  
  
“You can. You are strong.”  
  
“I'm not.”  
  
“You are. You are the strongest, kindest, most selfless man I know. You never gave up. You can get through this.”  
  
“I-I don't wanna lose you.”  
  
“You will not. Never.”  
  
“...you.”  
  
Bruce just frowned in confusion, but his face was open and Clark kept talking. He had to have some faith. And if this ended badly and Bruce hated him, then at least he would not stop him anymore. He would be glad when Clark left. With or without the help of the Black Mercy. There were other ways.

“I-I...W-We are...were married....inthedream...only in the dream.”

Bruce fell silence and his heart stuttered. Seemed like his mother hadn't told Bruce everything. So Clark waited to see how Bruce would react to this knowledge. To be either patted and pitied for falling in love with someone who could never love him back, or to be pushed aside and for Bruce to storm out in anger.

Either way, now Bruce knew, and things would never be like they were before. They couldn’t be friends anymore.

What he hadn't expected was Bruce to lean back, though never really leaving Clark, and look at him. To study Clark's tear stricken face and his puffy eyes. After some moments of awkward staring and some fuming from Clark, Bruce finally spoke.  
  
“We were married. Like a couple?”

Clark just nodded.

“With no ulterior motive or mission? Just married?”  
  
Another nod.  
  
“It is just...the data showed a symbiosis with the plant lead to a feeling of euphoria by giving the illusion of the host’s desires.”  
  


Clark just shrugged. That was at least how Jor-El had explained it and how it seemed.

“The probability of me being a constant in your dream just seemed unlikely. Especially considering my behavior towards you in the last weeks before...the event.”  
  


Another shrug.

“You are an arse, B. Didn't stop me from falling for you. I tried. Believe me.”  
  
This silenced Bruce once more. Clark knew the other man well enough to know he was assessing the situation and coming up with thousands of plans to choose the best action, so Clark let him be. Bruce would not speak before the gears in his head had stopped turning and Bruce was sure his strategy had a chance of winning. Whatever it was he wanted to win here.

So Clark rested his head on Bruce's shoulder again and closed his eyes. The other man hadn't let him go or had stopped him, and this was all the permission Clark needed. Bruce would speak up when he wanted space.

  
This was way more intimate than the two of them had ever been before, and it reminded Clark strongly of his time spent with Bruce in the dream. His heart tightened with longing, but not as bad as before. He missed the dream – it had been perfect after all – still this here wasn't so bad. It was not romantic or too close, but it was still nice to feel Bruce and hear his breath.

And it was real. He had never thought he could get so close to Bruce. Maybe he could get over his dream life if he got hugs like this occasionally from Bruce. It didn't really compare and he would still long to grab Bruce, drag him in, and litter his neck with kisses, but it was better than nothing. And something Bruce might be comfortable with giving.

  
Even if Bruce wasn't really touchy, he sometimes hugged his kids and was not totally immune to affection. He didn't show it most of the time, but Bruce could care. And he was a damn good hugger Clark decided. He felt so safe in Bruce's arms.  
  
“Before the Black Mercy I wanted you to stay away from me.”  
  
“Like I said, arse. Didn't stop me.”

Bruce grunted frustrated.  
  
“You don't understand: I didn't want you to get closer to me than you already were. I'm not good with letting people in.”  
  
“I noticed that too.”  
  
“Who is the arse now? I'm not good with relationships. Letting you in would have been a risk. So I reduced this risk by pushing you away. That has always been the reason for me acting up against you. You always had the highest possibility of getting into my life, so you had to be kept away at all costs... and that was a mistake.”  
  
This made Clark pause. Bruce generally removed anything distracting him from his mission. Ergo Clark must have been important enough to be a distraction for Bruce. He hadn't hated Clark, as he had thought. Rather the opposite. And because of this he had acted so rude. Normally people who got this kind of hateful treatment were people like Catwoman, who Bruce cared about enough to get scared.

  
“You cared about me.”  
  
“mhhh.”  
  
“You cared a lot.”

“mhhh.”  
  
“You should’ve told me.”  
  


And this was new.

“DO you still care, Bruce?”  
  
“More than is wise.”  
  
Clark couldn’t help but giggle. Only Bruce managed to make a dismissal of his own feelings sound so caring. He never said anything like this to anyone else in the League, and it made Clark so happy. It may not be a proposal, a love confession, or a date, but it was a promise. A promise that he mattered to Bruce and would continue to matter in whatever way Bruce thought of him. A promise that Bruce would try to stop hiding behind a mask of coldness and dismissal and instead would try to be more open about his feelings and let Clark in a bit. _Why else would he be here and telling Clark after he had achieved his goal of driving him away?_ And that was more than enough for Clark.

Bruce's hands twisted in Clark's shirt.

“Don't go.”  
  
“I won't.”

“This is no dream. I can't give you what 'he' gave you.”  
  
“You are terrible at making people want to stay. But I knew that. And I don't care. I will always take a stuck up real version of you over a made up believe. I know you have problems and burdens. Me too. But it will not stop me. I demand nothing from you. I don't want you to change. You are perfect as you are. Just don't let yourself stop you from being happy. I'm willing to take what you will give me. Nothing more. I will just be at your side as long as you want me there.”

Bruce's breath hitched and his heartbeat picked up. Clark enjoyed getting a reaction from the man usually hiding away behind a mask. This may not be perfect, but it was real. Bruce was real and that was all that mattered.

A soft tuck on his hair made him raise his head and look up to Bruce. Warm fingers moved from his hair to his check. Bruce's other arm slung around his waist pressing him even closer.

  
Clark looked in Bruce's eyes, seeing the world in them while Bruce studied him. Then Bruce's frown disappeared and he just nodded. Now it was Clark's turn to frown at what Bruce was up to now.

Bruce leaned forward and his lips ghosted over Clark's. Soft, just a slight brush, and then it was over. Clark's eyes were still wide open and he stared at Bruce in shock while the sensation sent shivers down his spine and goosebumps decorated his skin.

He knew Bruce cared but not like this. He was just afraid to lose Clark and was now humoring him. Giving in to Clark's demands and wish for love.

  
“B-Bruce you shoul-”  
  
He got cut off by Bruce's thumb sweeping over Clark's lower lip and Clark couldn’t help his eyes falling closed and the small huff escaping his lips.

“I wouldn't if I didn't want to. But I do want. Want way too bad.”  
  


Clark's heartbeat speed up when Bruce leaned closer, his beard stubble scratching over Clark's cheek, and whispering directly beside his ear.

“I always wanted you. It drove me mad how much I wanted you. So I tried to not want anymore. That's why it was so important to keep you away and safe from me. I would have burned you alive. I didn't want to be distracted by my feelings, but not having you near is even more irritating.”

Bruce's voice affected him so much, and Bruce knew it. Just with his words he had reduced Clark to a trembling, shivering mess desperately clinging to Bruce.

  
“I will disappoint you. More than once. I will be egoistic, demanding, very jealous and controlling. I will not be the husband or boyfriend you wished for. But I can promise I will want you and adore you endlessly if you let me.”  
  
“Y-yes Bruce. p...please.”  
  
“I have imagined something like this so many times. You trembling in my arms just like this, begging for me. Well, not exactly like this. There was a lot less clothing involved on your part.”  
  
Clark couldn’t help himself. His knees had gone weak and completely failed to support his weight, but he didn't fall. Bruce's hand around his waist pressed him close and held him up.

  
“You look stunning like this.”  
  
And with this Bruce pressed his lips to Clark's again. First soft, tasting, but it quickly got fierce, more demanding. He moved against Clark. His teeth pulled at Clark's lower lip and slowly bit down. And Clark was invulnerable – Bruce couldn’t hurt him, couldn't draw blood, but he still whimpered. The sensation was too much. His body was heating up.

Bruce bit down a bit harder before slowly letting Clark's lips fall from his teeth. His tongue darted out, quickly brushing over the place where tooth marks would be if Clark was human.

Bruce’s hand ran over his face, softly pushing Clark's head to the side, and Clark let him angle him into a better position. Then the lips were back on his, fierce and hot. Clark struggled for breath he didn't actually need, but he still felt like he was suffocating like this.

When Bruce bit his lips again he whined, and Bruce slipped his tongue inside Clark's mouth. It was so much. Bruce licked around his month and nipped at his lips when he got the chance, and Clark couldn't concentrate on anything besides Bruce. How close he was how he tasted, how soft his skin was on Clark's face.

The words just spilled out of him when Bruce's fingers ghosted down his neck over his collar bone.

“B-Bruce...Bruce... I-I love you.”

Bruce, despite being out of breath, answered, still way too collected for Clark's taste. But there was a flustered tone to his voice. And Clark had put it there.

“I love you too, Clark.”


End file.
